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THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH 

TO  THE  STUDY  OF 

PROPHECY 


A  DISSERTATION 

SUBMITTED  TO  THE  FACULTY  OF  THE  GRADUATE   SCHOOL  OF  ARTS 

AND   LITERATURE   IN  CANDIDACY  FOR   THE  DEGREE 

OF  DOCTOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

(the  graduate  divinity  school:    department  of  old  testament 
literature  and  interpretation) 


BY 

DAVID  EDWARD  THOMAS 


Reprinted,  with  additions,  from 

The  American  Journal  of  Theology,  Vol.  XVIII,  No.  2 

Chicago,  1914 


Ube  "Clnipersits  ot  Cbicaao 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH 

TO  THE  STUDY  OF 

PROPHECY 


A  DISSERTATION 

SUBMITTED  TO  THE  FACULTY  OF  THE  GRADUATE  SCHOOL  OF  ARTS 

AND  LITERATURE  IN  CANDIDACY  FOR  THE  DEGREE 

OF  DOCTOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

(the  graduate  divinity  school:    department  of  old  testament 
uterature  and  interpretation) 


BY 

DAVID  EDWARD  THOMAS 


Reprinted,  with  additions,  from 

The  American  Journal  of  Theology,  Vol.  XVIII,  No.  2 

Chicago,  1914 


s 

1< 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  THE  STUDY  OF 

PROPHECY 

The  psychology  of  religion  is  no  longer  a  new  field  of  research. 
Within  the  last  two  decades,  it  has  been  pursued  from  various  points 
of  approach,  and  no  one  who  has  followed  its  development  can 
question  its  contribution  to  the  clearer  understanding  and  deef)er 
appreciation  of  reUgion  in  its  relation  to  the  whole  mental  life. 

During  these  years  both  psychology  and  religion  have  been  sub- 
jected to  new  scrutiny;  a  psychological  method  of  dealing  with 
religion  has  added  zest  in  both  fields  of  inquiry,  and  has  produced 
interesting  and  stimulating  results.  These  researches  and  their 
results  have  been  of  great  practical  value,  especially  in  the  province 
of  child  and  adolescent  religion. 

But  comparatively  little  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  a  scientific 
analysis  and  an  attempted  explanation  of  the  special  and  higher 
forms  of  religious  experience,  as  exhibited  by  the  prophet  or  the 
mystic.  The  hterature  in  this  field  is  still  scanty.  Professor 
Ames'  in  his  recent  volume  devotes  a  chapter  to  the  psychology  of 
religious  genius.  A.  B.  Davidson'  has  dealt  specifically,  though 
briefly,  with  some  of  the  phases  of  this  topic.  George  Adam  Smith^ 
in  his  commentaries  on  the  prophets  drops  interesting  hints  of  the 
possibilities  in  this  line  of  research.  Two  more  recent  small 
volumes  by  Kaplan"*  and  Joyce^  show  the  tendency  of  the  times. 
These  books  are  in  the  nature  of  essays  oA  the  subject  of  prophetic 
psychology,  rather  than  systematic  and  exhaustive  treatments. 
Among  the  Germans  even  less  has  been  done  from  the  truly 
psychological  point  of  approach.     Giesebrecht*  and  Kurtz^  have 

»  The  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience. 

'Old  Testament  Prophecy,  and  articles  on  (i)  "Prophecy  and  Prophets,"  (2) 
"Jeremiah"  in  ffl>5. 

J  Expositor's  Bible.  s  The  Inspiration  of  Prophecy. 

*  The  Psychology  of  Prophecy.  '  Berufsbegabung  der  Propheten. 

» Psychologic  der  vorexilischen  Prophetic. 

I 


t%r\r^A  riO 


2        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

written  monographs  on  prophetic  psychology,  and  Duhm*  and 
Comill'  in  their  commentaries  have  shown  something  of  what 
might  be  accomplished  by  a  thorough  working  of  this  field.* 

But  it  remains  for  this  interesting,  not  to  say  tantalizing,  subject 
to  receive  the  attention  it  deserves  and  it  will  not  be  strange  if  the 
next  wave  of  interest  in  both  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New 
centers  along  this  line,  for  in  many  ways  it  furnishes  a  more  engross- 
ing and  productive  angle  of  approach  to  the  literature  than  does  the 
purely  historical.  Historical  criticism  has  by  no  means  completed 
its  task,  but  it  may  be  that  it  has  now  come  to  such  a  stage  of 
maturity  that  it  is  willing  to  take  to  itself  an  ally  that  will  help  it  to 
achieve  more  positive  results.  For  such  a  position  psychological 
analysis  and  explanation  is  a  contender. 

This  paper  is  an  attempt  to  present  a  method  of  approach  to  the 
religion  of  the  prophet.  The  method  purports  to  be  psychological 
and  to  distinguish  between  those  materials  which  may  be  entered 
and  considered  in  a  scientific  evaluation  of  so  elevated  a  type  of 
religious  experience,  and  those  which  may  not.  At  our  basis  lies  the 
historical  method  and  we  must  heed  well  all  its  findings;  but  on  this 
basis  we  make  a  new  evaluation — the  psychological — which  is  even 
more  exacting  in  its  demands  for  accuracy  and  balance  of  judgment. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  such  a  program  as  is  here  presented 
is  not  merely  theoretical.  It  could  not  be  put  forth  at  all  without 
considerable  concrete  study  in  the  field  of  both  psychology  and 
prophecy.  In  testing  out  our  method  two  ways  of  dealing  with  the 
prophetic  materials  are  open.  One  way  is  to  draw  illustrations  for 
any  particular  thesis  in  the  process  of  development  of  the  program 
from  the  whole  range  of  prophetic  literature.  Naturally  this  is  the 
easier,  for  it  furnishes  a  much  wider  choice  of  concrete  illustrations, 
and  by  their  use  the  method  can  be  rounded  out  much  more  satis- 
factorily in  its  practical  application.  The  other  and  harder  method 
of  application  is  to  take  the  whole  life  of  a  single  prophet,  so  far  as 
the  sources  furnish  us  the  materials,  and  work  it  out  in  a  more 
human  and  intelligible  picture.  In  such  a  study  lies  the  particular 
value  of  this  program  of  prophetic  experience,  if  it  turns  out  to  have 

» Commentaries  on  the  Prophets.  *  Commentary  on  Jeremiah. 

» Halscher's  Profeten  (1914)  appeared  too  late  for  use  here. 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY         3 

a  particular  value.  It  is  an  ambitious  program  and  is  not  content 
to  give  up  the  pursuit  of  so  high  a  form  of  religion  until  scientific 
research  has  done  its  work  and  the  laws  of  cause  and  efifect  in  the 
religious  realm  have  been  applied.  It  is  not  necessarily  an  attempt 
to  prove  that  all  forms  and  degrees  of  religious  genius  can  be 
analyzed  and  defined  in  terms  of  modern  psychology,  but  rather 
a  willingness  to  go  as  far  as  facts  carry  us  and  then  to  make  prop>er 
and  valid  inferences  on  the  basis  of  such  facts.  If  there  remain 
an  unexplained  residuum,  we  have  the  assured  belief  that  psy- 
chology will  not  be  discredited,  just  as  we  are  led  to  believe  that 
religion  will  not  suffer  if  psychological  science  is  able  to  give  a 
reasonable  explanation  of  some  of  the  phenomena  that  formerly 
were  considered  too  sacred  to  be  scrutinized. 

Two  preliminary  tasks  arise  for  one  who  applies  this  or  any 
similar  program — tasks  arising  from  the  nature  of  the  prophetic 
materials.  The  first  pertains  to  the  interpretation  of  the  literary 
form  in  which  the  prophet  gives  expression  to  his  experience.  A 
casual  perusal  of  the  prophetic  books  will  show  that  all  the  prophets 
were  conscious  of  what  they  interpreted  to  be  a  divine  compulsion; 
the  most  common  form  of  the  manifestation  of  this  extra-human 
influence  is  visions  and  voices.  The  question  raised  here  is  not  one 
as  to  the  reality  of  the  experience,  but  one  as  to  whether  the  form 
in  which  it  is  found  is  Uteral  or  figurative.  Manifestly,  we  cannot 
settle  the  question  a  priori,  nor  even  by  appeal  to  the  facts  in  the 
case  of  one  or  two  prophets.  It  is  a  question  which  must  be  raised 
afresh  as  we  approach  the  record  of  each  individual  prophet.  All 
that  can  be  done  here,  then,  is  to  indicate  what  would  seem  to  be  a 
scientific  procedure  in  addressing  ourselves  to  the  problem. 

The  problem,  then,  is:  Are  vision  and  voice  a  convenient 
literary  form  inherited  from  the  past  or  developed  for  the  exigency 
by  means  of  which  to  give  vivid,  outward  expression  to  the  inner 
experience,  or  are  they  a  genuine  and  real  part  of  the  experience  ? 
Unless  we  recognize  this  problem,  all  sorts  of  complications  may 
arise  in  attempting  a  reasonable  exegesis.  From  this  point  of  view, 
each  seer  presents  his  own  problem.  They  cannot  all  be  treated 
according  to  one  criterion.  Amos,  Isaiah,  and  Ezekiel  present  each 
his  own  pecuUarity  of  vision  form,  and  in  each  case  a  faithful  effort 


4         THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

must  be  made  to  distinguish  between  that  part  which  is  mere  figure 
or  framework,  consciously  so  used,  and  that  which  for  the  prophet 
was  an  integral  and  real  part  of  his  experience.  This  will  require 
the  most  subtle  literary  and  psychological  criteria,  but  the  attempt 
is  worth  making  if  we  are  to  get  at  the  core  of  the  matter. 

The  second  preliminary  consideration,  viz.,  the  question  of  the 
sources,  may  be  passed  with  a  word.  We  have  fallen  upon  perilous 
times  in  matters  of  historical  criticism,  and  in  the  m^lee  none  has 
suffered  more  than  some  of  our  most  endeared  Old  Testament 
prophets.  In  the  present  status  of  criticism,  it  is  impossible  to  be 
exact  in  the  use  of  hterary  materials.  The  only  safe  plan  to  pursue 
is  to  take  the  minimum  of  authenticated  sources  as  our  basis  of  pro- 
cedure, and  even  then  we  are  not  sure  that  some  of  these  will  not  be 
discredited  tomorrow.  Yet  there  is  some  comfort  in  the  fact  that 
the  psychological  reconstruction  suffers  less  in  these  uncertain  days 
than  the  historical;  for  history  has  to  do  with  exact  facts  and  with- 
out them  it  cannot  proceed  far,  while  the  psychological  method  gets 
its  chief  value  in  the  study  of  the  bold  outlines  of  a  life.  This  is  not 
to  say,  however,  that  it  is  not  closely  conditioned  by  historical  fact, 
at  every  step. 

We  undertake  now  a  plan  for  the  genetic  study  of  the  prophet's 
experience  and  distinguish  four  principal  topics,  as  follows:  (i) 
antecedents  and  inheritances;  (2)  environment;  (3)  temperament; 
(4)  the  prophetic  experience. 

I.   THE  prophet's  ANTECEDENTS  AND  INHERITANCES 

In  the  light  of  biological  and  psychological  science,  it  is  becom- 
ing ever  more  certain  that  the  roots  of  our  lives,  our  beliefs  and 
practices,  are  deeply  imbedded  in  the  past;  that  the  average 
individual  is  what  he  is  largely  because  of  what  he  has  hved  through 
in  racial  history,  however  narrowly  or  widely  those  terms  may  be 
interpreted;  and  that  even  the  most  extraordinary  person  is  not 
wholly  free  from  this  enslavement  to  the  past.  There  are  ever 
fewer  and  fewer  geniuses,  in  the  sense  that  they  transcend  and  defy 
explanation  in  terms  that  can  be  accounted  for.  Therefore,  it  will 
not  be  strange  if  we  find  some  of  the  prophet's  peculiarities  in  these 
inheritances.    He  may  have  passively  accepted  them  and  been 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY         5 

unconsciously  guided  by  them,  or  he  may  have  analyzed  their 
influence  upon  his  times  and  reacted  against  them.  A  study  of 
these  antecedents  will  have  to  do  with  both  the  form  and  the  content 
of  the  prophet's  message.  What,  then,  has  the  previous  age  con- 
tributed to  the  form  of  prophecy  in  its  golden  age?  This  will 
require  a  complete  study  of  the  earlier  forms  of  prophecy  in  Israel, 
as  well  as  of  the  form  of  prophetic  messages  among  other  and  earlier 
peoples;  in  other  words,  a  genetic  study  of  the  form  of  prophecy, 
for  rudiments  of  form  are  likely  to  persist  even  after  the  content  has 
completely  changed.  It  is  well  to  note  that  here  we  are  deahng 
with  a  different  question  from  the  one  raised  in  the  preliminary 
study.  There  we  asked:  Was  the  form  in  which  the  prophet 
couched  his  message  a  true  facsimile  of  that  message  as  it  came  to 
him  or  was  he  consciously  using  literary  form  as  the  vehicle  of  his 
thought?  Here  we  ask  the  still  more  ultimate  question:  What 
influence  had  the  form  of  earlier  prophecy  on  the  form  in  which  the 
prophet  felt  bound  to  receive  his  message  in  order  that  it  might  be 
authentic  ?  Did  his  inheritance  along  this  line  dictate  to  him  the 
psychological  condition  in  which  his  mind  must  be  placed,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  receptive  to  the  divine  message,  or  did  he  strike 
out  rather  boldly  and  independently,  and  largely  disregard  the  form 
dictated  by  tradition;  in  short,  was  he  able  to  distinguish  between 
form  and  essence;  e.g.,  did  trance  and  ecstasy  so  f>ersist  in  the  time 
of  Amos  and  Isaiah  that  they  were  sought  by  these  men  as  genuine 
prophetic  experiences,  as  forms  that  were  considered  a  necessary 
and  integral  part  of  the  message;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  has  the 
prophet  here  supervened  his  inheritance,  and  developed  a  new  con- 
ception of  prophecy  in  which  the  essential  element  is  not,  in  any 
degree,  linked  to  form,  but  consists  entirely  in  its_ethical  and 
religioiLS  content,  regardless  of  the  way  in  which  it  may  have  been 
intuited;  or,  in  the  third  place,  does  he  fall  somewhere  between 
these  two  extremes,  showing  considerable  progress  toward  an 
ethical  rehgion  inwardly  conditioned,  but  not  being  able  entirely  to 
free  himself  from  inherited  and  conventional  forms  ? 

Then  what  have  inherited  ideas  had  to  do  with  conditioning  the 
prophet's  mind  for  his  work,  either  by  hindering  or  by  helping? 
Here  we  must  take  into  survey  the  religious  conceptions  of  the 


6         THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

pre-prophetic  age  and  scrutinize  them  as  carefully  as  possible.  It  is 
not  difficult  to  see  that  there  was  great  progress  in  the  purification 
and  clarification  of  religious  ideas  in  the  two  centuries  preceding 
the  great  prophets,  and,  although  Amos  comes  upon  us  suddenly 
and  seemingly  without  proper  introduction,  with  his  independent 
social  and  ethical  ideas,  yet  we  may  find,  on  closer  analysis,  that  in 
him  and  his  successors  many  ideas  that  were  already  in  process  of 
crystallization  have  come  out  into  the  clear  Ught,  fostered  by  their 
vigor  and  insight,  and  have  entered  more  or  less  fully  into  the 
currents  of  their  common  thoughts.  This  fact  could  no  doubt  be 
much  more  completely  shown  than  is  commonly  thought,  if  our 
authentic  sources  for  this  period  were  not  so  few.  It  is  reasonable 
to  beheve  that  there  were  currents  of  ethical  thought  preceding 
Amos,  of  which  we  have  scarcely  any  direct  hint.  It  may  be 
possible  to  trace  these  out  more  clearly  than  has  yet  been  done, 
even  with  the  meager  sources  at  our  disposal.  Such  a  study  would 
scarcely  have  warrant  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  we  have  a 
growing  appreciation  of  the  debt  each  generation  owes  to  its 
predecessors.  Such  a  study,  if  in  any  degree  successful,  will  not 
detract  one  whit  from  the  greatness  of  these  great  men.  They  will 
still  retain  a  sufficient  meed  of  praise;  they  stand  out  on  the  basis 
of  what  they  were  and  what  they  did,  but  it  will  help  us  to  under- 
stand them  better  and  thus  to  appreciate  them  the  more.  An 
examination  of  these  inherited  views  would  include  such  topics  as 
the  pre-prophetic  or  (in  the  case  of  later  prophets)  the  earlier 
prophetic  views  of  God;  the  cultus;  the  ethical  element  in  religion 
in  this  period;  the  prophet  and  his  work,  his  relation  to  politics  and 
government,  his  attitude  toward  the  innovations  of  advancing 
civilization,  etc. 

n.      THE  prophet's  ENVIRONMENT 

Here,  at  the  outset,  it  is  necessary  to  define  terms,  so  as  to  make 
a  clear  distinction  between  the  matter  treated  in  the  foregoing  topic 
and  that  which  is  to  be  included  here.  In  the  above  section,  we 
attempt  to  deal  with  influences  which  persist  from  a  former  age. 
Here,  we  desire  to  classify  those  influences  which  arejj£yr,  which 
take  origin  in  the  prophet's  own  time,  owing  to  political  and  social 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY         ^ 

changes  and  exigencies.  Here  again  it  is  not  incumbent  upon  us  to 
find  the  prophet  entirely  a  child  of  his  own  times,  else  he  would  not 
be  worthy  of  special  study;  but  when  we  do  study  the  conditions 
with  which  he  was  surrounded  and  find  him  in  part  influenced  by 
them,  in  part  withstanding  them,  we  understand  him  the  better  for 
so  doing.  And  this  juxtaposition  of  his  own  views  to  those  current 
among  his  people  may  be  one  of  the  secrets  of  the  development  of 
his  character.  If  great  men  are  the  product  of  great  times,  then 
the  inference  is  clear,  if  we  would  learn  the  secret  of  the  men  them- 
selves. Was  the  prophet  a  nationalist,  and,  if  so,  was  he  one  for  the 
same  reason  that  his  fellow-Israelites  were,  or  did  his  insight  into 
conditions  drive  him  to  a  new  interpretation  of  the  political  signifi- 
cance of  his  nation  ?  Was  it  the  political  influence  or  was  it  the 
social  that  bulked  largest  in  the  making  of  Amos  and  the  content  of 
his  scathing  sermons?  What  were  the  peculiar  circumstances, 
within  and  without,  that  gave  Hosea  his  hot,  tender  message  of 
divine  love  ?  What  do  the  messages  of  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah  owe  to 
the  political  and  religious  background  of  their  day?  Do  their 
differing  environments  throw  any  light  upon  the  fact  that  Micah 
prophesied  with  no  uncertain  tone  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  while 
Isaiah  repeatedly  held  to  the  inviolability  of  the  Holy  City,  even 
though  he  was  convinced  that  the  surrounding  country  districts 
would  be  devastated  ?  In  a  word,  to  what  extent  do  the  confines 
of  time  and  place  and  circumstance  limit  the  horizon  of  the  seer 
and  prescribe  the  materials  which  shall  furnish  content  and  coloring 
for  his  message  ?  In  a  study  of  this  character,  not  only  do  we  learn 
what  contribution  an  age  makes  to  a  man's  thinking  and  doing,  but, 
what  is  more  important,  we  get  here,  in  the  clash  between  ideals  and 
actual  conditions  which  must  be  faced,  the  breeding-ground  of  per- 
sistence, vigor,  character,  and  message,  by  means  of  which  the  man 
makes  his  contribution  to  his  age  and  all  subsequent  ages.  The 
environment  of  home,  church,  school,  society,  and  country  are  not 
a  negligible  factor  in  any  life,  however  extraordinary  or  pecuHar. 

ni.  THE  prophet's  temperament 

Temperament  is  rather  an  elusive  term  when  its  analysis  is 
attempted,  but  unless  we  can  deal  with  it  in  more  or  less  satisfactory 


8         THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

fashion,  some  secret  of  prophetic  greatness  may  escape  us;  imder- 
standing  it,  we  may  see  clearly  some  of  the  factors  that  have 
hitherto  been  indistinct.  First  of  all  there  is  a  temperament  of 
youth  and  of  rising  manhood,  becoming  conscious  of  itself,  as 
distinguished  from  that  of  the  mature  man  who  has  settled  down  to 
face  the  hard  facts  of  life.  Did  the  prophets  receive  their  calls  in 
young  manhood  just  as  they  were  emerging  from  the  enchanted 
land  of  adolescence  ?  If  so,  much  light  is  thrown  upon  their  experi- 
ence by  modern  studies  in  the  later  adolescent  period.  Does  it 
make  any  difference  whether  Isaiah  was  twenty  or  forty  years  of  age 
when  he  saw  the  Holy  One,  high  and  lifted  up,  his  train  filling  the 
temple  ?  Can  age  have  anything  to  do  with  the  peculiar  sternness 
and  severity  of  Amos'  messages  ? 

While  temperament  is  admitted  to  be  largely  hereditary — pos- 
sibly because  we  know  so  little  about  it — yet  it  may  be  much  more 
a  product  of  training,  and  especially  of  very  early  impressions,  than 
we  are  wont  to  believe.  While  evidence  on  this  point  i^  almost 
entirely  lacking  in  the  case  of  the  prophets,  yet  we  mtist  not  neglect 
any  of  it  that  lies  at  hand,  if  it  will  help  to  exjjfain  peculiarities  of 
individuals.  City-breeding  gives  a  certain  bent  to  one's  concep- 
tions; pastoral  life,  another,  and  agricultural  pursuits,  yet  another. 
Acquaintance  with  the  best  science  of  an  age  gives  a  type  of  thinking 
very  different  from  that  found  among  those  who  think  naively. 

But  more  important  than  these  is  that  peculiar,  inborn,  mental 
comp)Osition  which  distinguishes  individuals  and  which  seems  so 
deep  rooted  as  to  defy  all  attempts  to  classify-  it  under  a  norm  or 
type.  Though  all  external  stimuli  may  seem  to  be  similar  if  not 
identical,  mental  reactions  are  found  to  be  very  different  from  each 
other  in  different  individuals.  You  cannot  run  the  thinking  of 
mentally  active  people  into  the  same  mold,  but,  under  the  most 
favorable  conditions,  it  is  by  no  means  a  rarity  to  get  the  most 
diverse  types  of  mental  process  and  product.  What  is  the  explana- 
tion? One  man  is  a  rationalist;  another  is  highly  emotional. 
Either  may  become  a  mystic  and  have  inexplicable  experiences, 
but  they  arrive  at  them  by  very  different  routes.  One  man  is  active 
and  aggressive  in  temperament;  another  is  passive  and  retiring. 
Infilled  with  a  divine  passion,  one  of  these  men  experiences  the  over- 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY         9 

powering  influence  of  a  great  Spirit  or  Personality,  in  whose  hands 
he  is  passive  and  helpless;  the  other  is  conscious  of  his  own 
heightened  power  of  activity,  under  the  inspiration  of  the  same 
Spirit.  They  may  be  equally  vigorous  and  fiery  in  carrying  out  the 
mission  intrusted  to  them.  Will  these  and  other  observations  by 
modem  psychology,  when  applied  to  the  prophet,  help  us  the  better 
to  imderstand  the  man  and  his  message  ? 

IV.   THE  prophet's  EXPERIENCE 

We  come  now  to  the  crux  of  the  whole  matter,  an  attempt  to 
explain,  or  at  least  to  interpret,  that  peculiar  experience  which 
makes  a  prophetj^^rophgt,  which  distinguishes  him  from  any  other 
class  of  religionist  and  lifts  him  to  a  table-land  of  insight  and  outlook 
which  intensifies  his  religious  energy  many  fold  and  charges  his  whole 
life  and  being  with  a  new  purpose  and  opens  up  larger  capacities. 
If  we  cannot,  to  some  extent,  enter  into  this  holy  of  holies,  all  our 
preliminary  drawings-nigh  will  be  largely  of  no  avail,  for  the  only 
excuse  one  may  give  for  undertaking  this  overweening  task  of 
psychological  analysis  is  that  he  may  get  near  to  the  heart  of  the 
experience  of  men  who  had  a  peculiar  consciousness  of  the  immediate 
presence  of  God  in  their  lives,  and  a  special  sensitiveness  to  his 
revelation,  both  of  himself  and  of  his  message  to  them.  We  are  not 
here  concerned  with  mere  description;  we  must  go  deeper;  an  effort 
must  be  made  to  interpret  the  experience  and  its  meaning  for  our 
time,  as  well  as  for  the  prophet  and  his  day.  The  most  rigid  and 
critical  tests  of  modern  research  in  the  psychological  field  must  be 
applied.  If  the  prophet  was  self -deceived  and  a  satisfactory  expla- 
nation in  subjective  terms  can  be  made  of  his  exp>erience,  this  does 
not  in  the  least  detract  from  what  he  was  and  what  he  accom- 
plished, but  it  makes  it  practically  impossible  for  his  experience 
and  his  type  of  character  to  be  dupUcated  in  our  more  scientific  age, 
at  least  among  those  who  understand  the  viewpoint  of  psychology. 
But  if  we  must  conclude  that  there  is  more  than  the  subjective,  that 
his  experience  is  the  result  of  a  divine  personal  energy  working 
upon,  and  co-operating  with,  an  intense  human  spirit,  we  get  a 
religious  state  devoutly  to  be  wished  and  sought  by  men  of  every 
time. 


lO        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

Professor  Ames,  in  his  chapter  on  ''Psychology  and  Religious 
Genius,"  says: 

[It  has  often  been  assumed  that  genius,  including  religious  genius]  desig- 
nated an  assumed  irreducible  and  unanalyzable  factor  in  human  nature,  a  kind 
of  given  endowment  which  the  science  of  psychology  cannot  legitimately  adopt. 
It  is  a  part  of  the  scientific  attitude  to  insist  upon  the  application  of  analysis 
and  interpretation  to  all  factors  and  functions  of  the  mental  life.  It  is  too 
much  to  expect  that  psychological  explanations  will  not  be  undertaken  simply 
because  the  phenomena  involved  are  complex  or  obscure,  or  because  some  people 
insist  that  they  are  wholly  inscrutable.  The  results  of  the  investigation  may 
be  negative  or  meager  or  only  partially  sustained,  but  no  phenomena  of  human 
experience  can  lay  claim  to  immunity  from  at  least  the  attempt  to  understand 
them.  Therefore  any  statement  of  genius  which  assumes  it  to  involve  factors 
radically  different  from  those  of  ordinary  experience  is  vitiated  at  the  outset  by 
that  assumption. 

Professor  Leuba  goes  even  farther  and  gives  the  distinct  impres- 
sion that  psychology  has  the  legitimate  right  to  pre-empt  to  itself  the 
entire  field  of  religion  and  to  declare  that  there  is  no  phenomenon  in 
this  field  that  psychology  cannot  grapple  with  and  explain. 

Psychology,  on  its  side,  claims  the  right  to  submit  every  content  of  con- 
sciousness to  scientific  study,  whether  it  be  dubbed  "inner,"  "spiritual,"  or 
otherwise;  moreover,  it  has  begun  to  make  good  that  claim.^  ....  Religious 
experience  ("inner  experience")  belongs  entirely  to  psychology — "entirely" 
being  used  in  the  same  sense  as  when  it  is  claimed  that  the  non-religious  por- 
tions of  conscious  life  belong  entirely  to  science.*  ....  I  trust  that  it  has 
become  clear  that  the  hope  to  lift  a  theology  based  on  inner  experience  out  of 
the  sphere  of  science  is  preposterous;  since  whatever  appears  in  consciousness 
is  material  for  psychology.  Religious  knowledge  may  be  said  to  be  immediate 
and  independent  of  science  only  in  the  sense  in  which  this  can  be  stated  of  any 
experience.  Any  bit  of  conscious  life  is  in  itself,  as  a  fact  of  consciousness, 
unassailable.  But  a  theology  that  should  remain  within  a  domain  inaccessible 
to  science  would  be  limited  to  a  mere  description  of  man's  religious  conscious- 
ness and  would  be  deprived  of  the  right  to  any  opinion  on  the  objective  reality 
of  its  objects  and  on  the  universal  validity  of  its  propositions If  super- 
human factors  are  at  work  within  human  experience,  there  are  no  ways  of  dis- 
covering them  except  the  ways  of  science.^ 

On  the  other  hand.  Professor  Pratt  is  much  less  sanguine  as  to 
the  ability  of  psychology  to  solve  all  problems  in  the  province  of 
rehgion: 

'  Leuba,  A  Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  p.  211. 
'Ibid.,  ■p.  212.  *  Ibid.,  p.  242. 


THE   PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH   TO   PROPHECY  II 

Equally  misleading  does  it  seem  to  me  to  suppose,  as  some  leading  "func- 
tional" psychologists  seem  to  do,  that  the  psychology  of  religion  can  ever  so 
develop  as  to  be  in  any  sense  a  substitute  for  philosophy  or  theology.  In  the 
opinion  of  this  school,  ethics,  aesthetics,  logic,  epistemology,  and  metaphysics 
are  ultimately  nothing  but  functional  psychology.*  ....  The  psychology  of 
religion  must  ....  content  itself  with  a  description  of  human  experience, 
while  recognizing  that  there  may  well  be  spheres  of  reality  to  which  these 
experiences  refer  and  with  which  they  are  possibly  connected,  yet  which  cannot 
be  investigated  by  science.' 

These  quotations  from  leading  scholars  in  this  field  show  that 
the  psychology  of  religion  is  yet  in  process  of  finding  itself  and  that 
there  is  no  consensus  of  opinion  even  among  these  experts  them- 
selves as  to  its  proper  province.  The  theory  of  Professor  Leuba 
which  allows  no  objective  validity  to  the  content  of  "value  judg- 
ments" is  not  likely  to  be  very  generally  accepted  and  will  need 
further  elucidation  and  buttressing.  On  the  other  hand,  Professor 
Pratt  seems  rather  too  modest  in  his  claims  for  the  new  science. 
However,  for  his  side  of  the  case  it  may  reasonably  be  said  that  the 
psychology  of  religion  is  scarcely  likely  to  be  so  successful  in  reveal- 
ing and  explaining  the  content  and  meaning  of  our  religious  selves 
that  men  will  cease  to  philosophize  and  theologize;  i.e.,  to  transcend 
the  boundaries  of  pure  scientific  observation  and  induction  and  to 
move  out  into  the  realm  of  speculation  and  "faith."  The  criterion 
set  forth  in  Professor  Ames's  statement  of  the  case  seems  sotmd,  and 
there  is  little  danger  that  a  thoroughgoing  psychology  will  go  too  far. 
If  we  persist  in  creating  for  ourselves,  or  if  there  is  already  created 
for  us,  an  extra-scientific  world,  a  "faith "  realm,  then  it  is  clear  that 
psychology  can  have  no  dealings  with  it,  either  to  prove  or  to  dis- 
prove its  existence.  Philosophical  assumptions  are  not  material  for 
psychological  analysis;  while  psychology  may  satisfy  itself  in  the 
explanation  of  religious  genius,  without  the  assumption  of  an  extra- 
human,  divine  element,  and  while  in  some  cases  its  analysis  may  be 
true  to  the  facts,  yet  it  can  never  prove  that  it  has  the  truth  in  all 
cases,  nor  yet  can  it  even  prove  in  what  specific  cases  it  has  the 
whole  truth  in  the  matter.  So  long  as  we  admit  a  realm,  the  objec- 
tive reality  of  which  is  not  subject  to  psychological  scrutiny,  religion 

'Pratt,  article  "Psychology  of  Religion,"  in  Journal  of  Religious  Psychology, 
V,  391- 

'Ibid.,  p.  393. 


12        TBE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

wiU  present  phenomena  which  do  not  lie  within  the  reahn  of  scientific 
proof,  and  whether  we  assume  divine  afflatus,  or  whether  we  rule  it 
out,  either  assumption  is  a  postulate  of  the  mind  and  not  a  proved 
fact.  Furthermore,  the  term  "ordinary  experience,"  used  by  Pro- 
fessor Ames  in  the  last  sentence  of  his  quotation,  does  not  claim  that 
some  degree  of  a  personal  knowledge  of  God  is  not  a  part  of  normal 
religious  experience;  thus  we  may  not  assume  at  the  outset  that  the 
genius  is  a  man  of  peculiar  endowments,  different  in  kind  rather 
than  in  degree  from  those  of  his  fellows.  But  if,  in  the  course  of  our 
investigations  and  analyses  of  any  specific  character,  we  find  ele- 
ments which  cannot  be  separated  out  and  classified  according  to 
the  accepted  norms,  if  there  is  found  the  unanalyzable  residuum,  it 
is  the  part  of  the  scientific  attitude  to  recognize  it,  even  if  we  must 
hold  judgment  temporarily  in  suspense,  or  plead  the  cause  of  a  yet 
undeveloped  science. 

The  theory  that  greatness  is  constituted  not  so  much  of  entirely 
new  and  strange  elements  as  of  a  proper  and  symmetrical  blending 
of  the  common  qualities  and  graces  unmistakably  has  some 
startling  illustrations  in  its  favor.  If  it  be  true,  then  the  Hebrew 
prophet  may  not  be  such  a  psychological  enigma  as  a  more  super- 
ficial view  would  indicate. 

As  has  already  been  pointed  out,  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  in 
many  ways  the  prophet  was  a  child  of  his  times.  Mentally,  his 
stock  of  ideas  is  very  largely  that  in  common  circulation.  The 
different  currents  of  ideas  may  combine  in  varying  proportions.  In 
his  case,  the  ideas  of  the  prophetic  party,  which  is  essentially,  though 
not  nominally,  the  religious  party,  have  the  predominance,  while  the 
formalistic  side  of  jeligion  represented  by  the  cultus  does  not  appeal 
to  him.  Furthermore,  the  prophet  is  not  an  apathetic  thinker;  his 
mental  life  is  enkindled  and  intense.  He  has  a  peculiar  ability  to 
rearrange  ideas,  so  that  new  truths  present  themselves  clearly. 
The  prophet  is  not  a  traditionalist;  he  does  not  live  in  the  past;  on 
the  other  hand,  he  is  willing  to  take  from  the  past  beliefs  which  are 
conserving  elements  in  the  present  religious  and  social  crisis. 
Again,  he  was  no  mere  dreamer  of  dreams  who  looked  sanguinely 
for  the  ** far-off  divine  event"  which  would  usher  in  a  glorious  age. 
He  lived  in  and  for  his  own  day;  and  he  was  the  greatest  man  of  his 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY        1 3 

day,  simply  because  his  mental  vision  took  in  the  whole  range  of 
facts,  however  disquieting  some  of  them  might  be.  He  was  not  a 
false  optimist  nor  was  he  a  false  pessimist,  but  he  saw  the  truth  as  it 
was,  not  simply  as  a  closed  revelation,  but  also  as  based  on  facts 
interpreted  in  harmony  with  universal  law. 

This  mental  alertness  made  the  prophet  a  student  of  his  times. 
The  question  whether  or  not  he  was  an  educated  man  in  any 
technical  or  academic  sense  is  not  of  so  great  importance.  He  was 
awake  and  new  truth  was  constantly  coming  to  him;  his  education 
was  never  declared  "finished."  Thus  it  was  easy  for  new  revela- 
tions to  be  received  by  him;  he  could  neither  resist  nor  reject  them. 
Mental  alertness  and  breadth,  ethical  depth,  and  religious  exaltation 
which  in  its  purest  form  expresses  itself  in  a  consciousness  of  fellow- 
ship with  God  form  together  an  equilateral  triangle,  or  better,  a 
closed  circle  of  experience.  They  are  all  of  a  piece;  they  produce 
the  symmetrical  person.  It  may  be  quite  impossible  to  say  in 
which  of  these  three  compartments  of  the  individual's  mental  life 
the  enkindling  begins,  or  what  may  have  been  the  specific  cause 
which  served  to  fan  the  smoldering  spirit  into  flame,  but  if  these 
three  elements  are  combined  in  proper  proportions,  the  one  reacts 
upon  the  others  until  in  turn  all  three  are  raised  to  a  white  heat,  and 
then  "who  can  but  prophesy"  ? 

It  may  be  well  to  note  that  for  the  prophet  there  seemed  to  be 
no  well-defined  differentiation  of  national,  social,  and  religious  con- 
sciousness from  each  other,  and  we  may  even  go  farther  and  say 
that,  at  times  at  least,  he  was  scarcely  able  to  detect  a  personal 
consciousness  as  distinct  from  these  three.  The  age  of  clear 
individualism  was  yet  in  the  future  and  the  prophet  was  not, 
consciously  at  least,  a  psychologist.  So  far  as  he  analyzed  his 
mental  states  at  all,  he  was  interested  largely  in  their  religious 
meaning.  But,  if  the  foregoing  analysis  contains  any  truth,  it 
throws  light  upon  the  attitude  of  the  prophet;  it  explains  why  he 
was  so  zealous  in  matters  of  politics  and  government;  it  opens  up  a 
reason  for  his  proclivities  toward  social  reform;  it  helps  to  explain 
his  ardent  love  for  his  people,  even  in  their  sin  and  wickedness. 
They  were  an  imdifferentiated  part  of  himself  and  of  his  God. 
Furthermore,  this  analysis  may  go  far  in  explaining  his  religious 


14        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

nature,  for,  if  he  was  so  intimately  associated  with  his  people — the 
nation — on  one  hand,  and  his  God  on  the  other,  so  that  his  own 
consciousness  was  both  a  social-  and  a  Grod-consciousness,  he  could 
have  been  but  a  mouthpiece  of  God  to  the  nation,  feeling  himself  a 
passive  agent  in  God's  hand,  even  when  he  had  been  most  active, 
mentally  and  morally,  in  preparing  himself  for  his  mission.  As  his 
social  message  grew  upon  him,  it  assumed  proportions  which  made 
it  appeal  to  him  as  superhuman  and  hence  as  divinely  originated. 
This  idea  as  a  principle  of  interpretation  would,  of  course,  require  to 
be  worked  out  in  detail  in  accordance  with  ascertainable  facts,  in 
the  case  of  each  separate  prophet. 

One  set  of  interpreters  of  the  psychology  of  the  prophet  makes 
the  original  element  in  his  experience  to  be  a  "premonition"*  that 
the  nation  is  to  be  destroyed.  His  ideas  follow  this  order:  first,  he 
has  a  premonition  of  this  event;  then  he  looks  about  for  that  which 
is  to  be  the  cause  of  destruction,  and  finds  it  in  the  sin  of  the  nation; 
then,  more  gradually,  he  is  led  to  predict  the  agent  of  the  destruction. 

But  whence  the  premonition  ?  It  must  be  manufactured  out  of 
thin  air.  What  data  in  the  mind  of  the  prophet  serve  to  give  this 
premonition  ballast  and  content?  Would  it  not  be  much  more 
natural,  as  well  as  scientific,  to  suppose  that  the  prophet  received 
his  impetus  either  from  a  study  of  the  social  and  political  conditions, 
or  from  so  real  and  compelling  a  fact  as  a  new  and  higher  con- 
ception of  the  nature  of  God,  based  on  study  and  observation — ^i.e., 
real  mental  activity — and  that  then,  as  a  natural  consequence  of  his 
observations,  he  concluded  that  the  downfall  of  the  nation,  if  the 
nation  persisted  in  its  present  way,  was  but  a  matter  of  time  ? 

Finally  an  attempt  must  be  made  to  interpret  not  only  the 
larger  and  more  general  experience  of  the  prophet,  but  also  that 
more  specific  experience  which  may  be  called  religious,  through 
which  he  became  conscious  of  his  call  from  God  and  his  mission  to 
the  people.  After  a  careful  study  of  the  narrative  in  order  to  dis- 
cover and  set  aside  any  literary  device  that  may  have  been  used  to 
convey  the  fact  of  his  experience  to  his  hearers  or  readers,  we  have 
next  to  determine  if  possible  whether  he  is  relating  a  single  out- 
standing experience  which  was  epoch-making  in  his  career,  or 

'  Kaplan,  The  Psychology  oj  Prophecy, 


THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY        1 5 

whether  these  experiences  came  to  him  periodically,  due  to  excessive 
mental  strain  and  possibly  some  temperamental  abnormality,  or 
whether  his  religious  messages  came  to  him  intuitively,  in  the  more 
or  less  even  tenor  of  his  way  and  without  special  excitation  or 
ecstasy.  Psychologically  all  these  are  possible  modes  or  grades  of 
inspiration.  To  critical  thinking,  they  are  of  varying  value;  so  are 
they  also  to  naive  thinking,  but  in  inverse  ratio.  We  are  prone  to 
think  that  in  just  the  proportion  in  which  ecstatic  and  trance  states 
were  absent  or  suppressed  was  the  prophet's  experience  valid  and 
his  utterance  valuable;  hence  we  have  a  tendency  in  the  case  of  the 
greater  prophets  to  reduce  this  element  to  the  minimum;  but  this 
somewhat  dogmatic  view  may  err  in  the  wrong  direction.  It  is  too 
easy  to  assume  that  certain  types  of  experience  are  authentic  and 
therefore  that  opposite  types  must  be  weak,  if  not  even  vicious. 
By  their  fruits  must  they  be  known.  If  one  man  gets  his  vision  of 
truth  mystically,  it  is  not  for  the  scientifically  minded  to  declare  his 
experience  invalid,  in  the  nature  of  things,  and  vice  versa.  But  it 
would  not  be  surprising  if  we  found  that,  as  the  ethical  element  in 
the  prophet's  message  comes  to  the  fore,  the  more  or  less  irrational 
and  subnormal  forms  of  inspiration  recede,  for  rational  and  ethical 
truth  are  discerned  by  the  more  sober  and  logical  mental  processes. 
Thus  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  in  the  pre-prophetic  period,  the 
ecstatic  and  trance  states  were  considered  quite  a  requisite  prepara- 
tion for,  and  hence  a  necessary  and  essential  part  of,  the  prophet's 
experience.  In  the  period  of  the  greater  prophets,  however,  this 
ecstatic  possession,  as  a  state,  was  at  the  minimum,  and  a  conscious 
intuition  of  truth,  with  little  or  no  excessive  excitation,  took  its 
place.  Of  this  even  Davidson  is  quite  certain,  for  he  uses  as  the 
closest  analogy  to  the  prophetic  experience  "the  condition  of  the 
religious  mind  in  earnest  devotion,  or  rapt  spiritual  communion 
with  God."*  If  we  could  reduce  the  prophetic  experiences  thus  to 
one  type,  it  would  greatly  simplify  our  problem,  but  when  one  reads 
the  prophets  it  is  quite  reasonable  to  believe  that  these  abnormal 
states  of  ecstasy,  trance,  vision,  and  audition  did,  to  some  extent, 
persist  and  insinuate  themselves  into  prophetic  times.  Whether 
they  did  or  not,  and,  if  so,  to  what  extent  they  did  is  the  real 

'  Davidson,  HDB,  IV,  115,  article  on  "Prophecy  and  Prophets." 


1 6        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

problem,  for  modern  psychology  undertakes  to  explain  all  these 
states  as  self-induced  and  not  necessarily  due  to  a  supernatural 
cause.  In  fact,  there  is  a  growing  certainty  that  the  supernatural 
does  not  work  in  such  capricious  ways;  but  again,  we  must  remem- 
ber that  the  prophet  is  not  a  modern,  in  spite  of  all  his  points  of 
superiority,  and  that  even  we  modems  may  not  have  the  whole 
truth  as  yet.  The  point  is  that  we  must  not  discredit  the  prophet, 
if  it  can  be  reasonably  shown  that  he  did  perceive  truth  while  in 
these  so-called  abnormal  states. 

But  for  those  who  take  a  religious  view  of  the  world,  there  is  no 
question  as  to  the  essence,  the  kernel  of  the  prophet's  experience  and 
message.  We  believe  that,  not  only  at  the  heart  of  things,  but  in 
the  van  as  well,  "our  God  is  marching  on";  he  makes  progressive 
revelation  of  himself  and  of  eternal  truth,  but  he  speaks  clearly  only 
to  the  sincere  and  inquiring  mind.  The  prophet  was  passionate  to 
know  truth  and  righteousness.  He  lived  in  a  time  when  new  truth 
and  new  inspiration  for  right  living  were  sorely  needed.  He  went 
to  what  he  believed  to  be  the  fountain-head  of  wisdom  and  goodness 
and  he  received  them.  That  is  probably  as  much  as  we  can  say. 
A  quotation  from  Davidson  applies  just  here: 

It  is  vain  to  speculate  how  the  Divine  mind  coalesces  with  the  human,  or  to 
ask  at  what  point  the  Divine  begins  to  operate.  Some  have  argued  that  the 
operation  was  dynamical;  i.e.,  an  intensification  of  the  faculties  of  the  mind, 
enabling  it  thus  to  reach  higher  truth.  Others  regard  the  Divine  operation  as 
of  the  nature  of  suggestion  of  truth  to  the  mind.  What  is  to  be  held,  at  all 
events,  is  that  revelation  was  not  the  communication  of  general  or  abstract 
ideas  to  the  intellect  of  the  prophet.  His  whole  religious  mind  was  engaged. 
He  entered  into  the  fellowship  of  God,  his  mind  occupied  with  all  his  own 
religious  interests  and  all  those  of  the  people  of  God;  and  his  mind  thus 
operating,  he  reached  the  practical  truth  relevant  to  all  occasions.' 

»  Davidson,  HDB,  IV,  n6,  article  on  "Prophecy  and  Prophets." 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH 

In  taking  up  some  phases  of  the  life  of  Jeremiah  in  order  to 
make  a  specific  and  concrete  illustration  of  the  method  set  forth 
in  the  preceding  pages,  we  cannot  hope  to  bring  out  much,  if  any- 
thing, that  is  startlingly  new,  for  most  of  the  points  here  brought 
into  systematic  and  related  form  have  been  noted  here  and  there 
by  the  various  commentators  whom  we  have  mentioned.  But  not 
one  of  them  has  set  out  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  evaluating 
and  arranging  all  the  material  in  accordance  with  the  accepted 
tenets  of  modem  psychology.  Needless  to  say,  that  is  our  specific 
attempt  here. 

In  the  first  place,  we  are  not  interested  in  doing  again  the  work 
of  critics  in  the  historical  field.  Though  they  differ  widely  in 
results,  their  criteria  are  very  much  alike.  It  is  evident  that  some 
experts  in  the  field  of  historical  criticism  lack  psychological  appre- 
ciation, so  it  is  natural  that  here  we  should  follow  with  more  zeal 
those  who  seem  to  manifest  the  greater  measure  of  this  most 
necessary  quality. 

Secondly,  one  who  has  ever  attempted  to  find  a  unity  in  the 
Book  of  Jeremiah  by  even  a  cursory  reading  knows  something  of 
the  difficulty  with  which  we  proceed  to  our  material.  Manifestly, 
it  would  be  difiicult  to  attempt  a  running  historical  sketch  of  the 
prophet's  life  as  a  whole,  for  the  material  is  so  unevenly  distributed, 
and  furthermore  any  such  exposition  would  far  transcend  our  space 
limits.  We  must  be  content  then  to  suggest  what  may  be  done 
on  a  much  larger  scale,  by  selecting  the  early  life  and  the  call 
experience  of  Jeremiah  and  dealing  with  a  few  of  the  problems  pre- 
sented by  this  phase  of  a  great  life.  Naturally,  those  topics  are 
chosen  which  give  the  best  opportunity  for  testing  our  criteria  of 
prophetic  religious  experience. 

Needless  to  say,  numerous  hindrances  due  to  the  scantiness  and 
uncertainty  of  our  sources  constantly  obstruct  our  procedure,  and 
in  many  ways  the  results  are  disappointing  because  of  their  negative 
character. 

17 


l8        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

Attitude  toward  the  sources. — Though  concerned  here  directly 
with  only  one  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Jeremiah  we  must  draw 
indirect  evidence  from  the  entire  book;  hence  an  attitude  must  be 
taken  toward  the  sources  as  a  whole.    Our  problem  is  twofold: 

I.  What  materials  in  the  book  must  be  ruled  out  of  use  as 
unauthentic;  i.e.,  as  from  hands  later  than  those  of  Jeremiah  and 
his  amanuensis,  Baruch?  This  involves  still  another  question, 
viz.,  what  were  the  sources  for  this  later  material  and  were  they 
authentic  ?  This  question,  in  most  cases  at  least,  will  not  receive 
an  answer,  but  it  should  be  kept  in  mind.  It  is  evident  that  at 
least  some  passages  might  be  used  in  a  psychological  appreciation, 
which  would  not  pass  muster  with  historical  criticism,  but  it  seems 
best  to  admit  only  those  materials  which  a<re  to  be  substantiated 
only  on  the  most  rigid  historical  grounds.  However,  where  what 
seems  to  be  an  incorrect  psychological  analysis  has  been  applied  in 
arriving  at  critical  results,  it  is  our  privilege,  in  the  interest  of  true 
science,  to  make  the  proper  analysis,  even  though  it  reverse  or 
modify  the  results  of  the  historical  process,  for,  in  the  final  analysis, 
the  successful  historical  expert  must  have  a  good  understanding  of 
psychology.  This  is  especially  true  in  a  study  of  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  prophet,  Jeremiah.  In  such  a  many-sided  nature, 
mere  mechanical  tests  as  to  the  validity  of  materials  are  not 
sufficient.  There  must  be  a  wide  understanding  of  the  peculiar 
workings  of  the  human  mind  and  of  the  seemingly  inconsistent 
combination  of  traits  and  temperaments  that  are  sometimes  to  be 
found  in  a  single  individual.  It  goes  without  saying  that  there 
must  be  sympathy  for  the  personaUty  with  which  one  is  dealing; 
not  blind  and  sentimental  sympathy,  but  an  intelligent  apprecia- 
tion of  the  peculiarities  of  the  man,  as  well  as  an  ability  to  un- 
derstand the  hard  and  trying,  even  exasperating,  situations  in 
which  he  is  placed. 

It  is  easy  to  relegate  to  the  realm  of  the  impossible,  especially 
in  the  study  of  great  personaliries,  types  of  behavior  which  become 
quite  clear  when  all  the  circumstances  are  considered. 

II.  In  the  light  of  the  fact  that  Jeremiah  did  not  reduce  his 
prophecies  to  written  form  until  the  twenty-third  year  of  his  public 
ministry,  and  also  that  much  of  the  biographical  material  was  not 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH  I9 

added  until  some  years  later,  we  have  the  interesting  problem  of 
sifting  and  evaluating  material. 

First  of  all,  what  was  Baruch's  relation  to  Jeremiah  ?  This  is 
not  a  problem  so  long  as  we  are  considering  those  parts  of  the 
prophecy  which  Jeremiah  is  said  to  have  dictated  to  Baruch,  for 
in  this  case  the  latter  is  simply  an  amanuensis.  But  the  problem 
does  arise  in  the  biographical  portions  which  were  compiled  by 
Baruch.  It  is  generally  held  by  critics  that  genuine  Baruch 
material  is  virtually  as  authentic  as  Jeremian  material.  His- 
torically, this  may  be  quite  true,  and  psychologically  it  may  be  far 
from  true.  It  is  generally  assumed  that  a  man's  biographer  appre- 
ciates and  represents  him  truly,  because  of  his  intimate  fellowship 
with  him,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  all  biographers  understand  the 
subjects  of  their  labors  of  love,  and  some  may  greatly  misunder- 
stand. But  here  it  is  reasonable  to  assume  that  Baruch,  who  spent 
so  many  years  at  the  prophet's  side,  certainly  because  he  loved  and 
appreciated  him,  was  a  worthy  biographer,  and  it  is  not  beyond 
belief  that,  just  because  he  was  able  to  stand  outside  the  prophet's 
consciousness  and  view  it,  undisturbed  by  the  great  floods  of  feeling 
that  sometimes  beset  the  temperamental  Jeremiah,  he  understood 
the  prophet  better  than  Jeremiah  understood  himself.  So  we 
should  at  least  be  profoundly  thankful  to  Baruch  for  his  part  in 
preserving  for  us  the  record  of  some  of  the  events  of  the  prophet's 
stormy  life,  and  one  need  not  hesitate  to  use  these  materials  in 
arriving  at  a  knowledge  of  Jeremiah  as  he  was. 

But  a  more  interesting  and  exacting  problem  is  raised  by  the 
first  part  of  our  question.  Jeremiah  dictated  the  larger  part  of  his 
oracles,  some  of  which  were  spoken  in  the  first  five  years  of  his 
public  life,  twenty-three  years  after  he  began  his  work  as  a  prophet. 
No  one,  even  though  he  be  an  adept  in  the  use  of  critical  processes, 
is  able  to  write  down  his  experiences  a  score  of  years  after  they 
occur  and  expect  them  to  be  true  to  fact.  Their  recorded  form  is 
most  likely  to  be  not  simply  a  statement  of  the  original  experiences, 
but,  as  well,  of  the  reaction  the  individual  himself  has  made  toward 
those  experiences,  tempered  by  the  events  and  changing  attitudes 
of  all  the  intervening  years.  Even  today,  with  all  our  cultivation 
of  the  art  of  introspection,  it  is  the  unusual  person  who  is  able 


20        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

to  perform  the  most  difficult  task  of  abstracting  from  the  total 
mass  of  experience,  and  evaluating  at  their  true  worth,  events  and 
experiences  that  have  occurred  years  previously.  At  first  this  state 
of  affairs  in  Jeremiah's  case  seems  to  land  us  in  utter  chaos,  so  far 
as  arriving  at  a  true  evaluation  of  his  various  experiences,  earlier 
and  later,  is  concerned.  Let  us  note  an  example.  Throughout  his 
entire  pubhc  life,  until  it  actually  came  in  597,  Jeremiah  looked  for 
a  destructive  enemy  from  the  north.  His  very  earliest  oracles  are 
full  of  this  threat  and  are  quite  universally  held  to  have  had  in 
prospect  the  incursions  of  the  Scythians,  though  Jeremiah,  as  we 
now  have  it,  nowhere  speaks  of  them  by  name.  The  Scythians 
failed  to  overrun  the  land,  but  Jeremiah  continued  to  look  for  this 
terrible  enemy  from  this  same  direction.  It  is  only  immediately 
preceding  the  Babylonian  triumph  of  597  that  we  find  the  name  of 
this  enemy  clearly  mentioned.  Now  there  are  several  possibilities 
here,  but  they  are  all  vitiated  by  the  fact  that  the  prophet  wrote 
down  his  impressions  many  years  after  some  of  them  came  to  him, 
and  after  there  had  been  a  great  change  in  the  political  outlook. 
It  is  probable  that  if  Jeremiah  had  written  down  his  earlier  oracles 
at  the  time  they  were  uttered  we  should  find  unmistakable  refer- 
ences to,  if  not  the  specific  mention  of,  the  Scythians,  but  writing 
so  long  after  these  stirring  years,  in  times  just  as  stirring,  though 
very  different,  he  purposely  omits  specific  reference  to  the  Scythian 
threat,  which  never  materialized,  so  far  as  Judah  was  concerned, 
and  so  retouches  these  earlier  oracles  that  they  become  a  general 
and  cumulative  reference  to  the  later  and  greater  threat  which  was 
just  about  to  materialize  when  he  prepared  his  roll.  Had  we 
specific  references  to  this  enemy  from  the  north  in  these  earlier 
oracles  the  fact  would  be  of  great  value  in  the  dating  of  our 
sources. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  dealing  with  the  sources  as  a  whole,  it  is 
possible  to  overwork  this  side  of  the  case.  The  constant  repetitions 
in  the  first  ten  chapters  of  the  book  lead  one  to  question  seriously 
whether  the  prophet  dictated  purely  from  memory,  and  in  any  case 
we  are  not  required  to  assume  such  a  thing.  In  the  light  of  these 
repetitions,  it  is  a  more  probable  assumption  that  the  prophet  had 
at  hand  very  brief  and  scrappy  notes  of  his  early  sermons,  mere 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH  21 

catch-line  notes,  we  may  call  them.  There  is  no  question  that  in 
his  actual  ministry  the  prophet  was  constantly  repeating  his  mes- 
sage; he  had  but  one  message  and  it  was  plainly  and  directly 
spoken.  He  did  not  aim  at  reveahng  breadth  of  culture  or  variety 
of  literary  form  in  his  sermons.  But  this  fact  would  not  require 
him,  twenty  years  later,  to  reproduce  the  content  of  each  of  these 
deliverances,  regardless  of  how  closely  they  resembled  each  other  in 
form  and  thought.  Nor  need  we  require  of  the  prophet's  memory 
the  gigantic  task  of  reproducing  at  this  time  so  many  separate 
oracles  as  we  seem  to  have  here.  If  Jeremiah  had  at  his  disf)osal 
in  604  these  jottings  or  brief  notes  and  used  them  in  his  dictation, 
giving  a  short  paragraph  to  each  one,  there  is  here  some  explana- 
tion of  the  fragmentariness  of  these  chapters  as  well  as  of  the 
repetitions,  and  at  the  same  time  we  may  not  be  so  much  at  sea 
regarding  the  prophet's  earlier  conceptions  and  teachings,  though, 
be  it  remembered,  the  assumption  of  notes  for  dictation  does  not  set 
aside  the  probability  that  the  prophet  felt  free  to  correct  and  sup- 
plement his  fragmentary  catch-lines.  And  this  he  would  do,  quite 
necessarily,  in  the  light  of  his  whole  experience,  to  date. 

I.    Jeremiah's  early  life 

There  is  a  certain  universality  in  the  reign  of  psychological  laws. 
Thus  we  may  enter  upon  our  task  with  the  assured  belief  that  the 
most  momentous  influences  that  played  upon  the  life  and  aroused 
the  activities  of  the  great  prophet  made  their  impress  upon  him  in 
the  early  and  formative  period  of  his  existence.  These  influences, 
even  if  indistinctly  discerned,  help  to  explain  the  man  as  he  was  in 
later  life.  Even  if  in  the  case  of  Jeremiah  we  fail  to  some  extent 
to  make  out  a  good  case,  owing  to  the  scarcity  of  material  covering 
this  period  of  his  life,  we  know  that  in  not  a  few  cases  circumstances 
similar  to  those  which  must  have  surrounded  him  have  been  power- 
ful stimuli  in  the  molding  of  other  lives  not  unlike  this  one.  Thus 
the  burden  of  proof  hes  upon  those  who  would  reject  or  minimize 
the  importance  of  these  early  experiences. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  much  easier  to  try  to  explain  the  success 
or  failure  of  a  life  by  its  great  outstanding  events,  its  crises,  than 
it  is  to  dig  down  and  examine  carefully  the  countless  rootlets,  which 


22        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

have  each  drawn  up  its  tiny  portion  of  sustenance  into  the  great 
life.  At  any  rate  these  childhood  influences  are  very  important  in 
that  they  serve  as  predetermining  elements,  silently  though  power- 
fully at  work  in  the  reaction  he  makes  toward  the  greater  event 
when  it  suddenly  makes  its  impact  upon  him  and  calls  for  a  speedy 
defining  of  his  position,  even  as  he  stands  in  its  very  presence.  In 
other  words,  the  decisions  we  make  in  the  face  of  a  great  demand 
are  tempered  and  in  a  large  degree  determined  by  those  more 
steady  and  less  pretentious  influences  that  have  filtrated  into  our 
lives  through  the  years.  To  understand  any  man,  then,  from  any 
point  of  view,  his  home  and  childhood  life  must  be  taken  into 
account. 

Jeremiah  was  born  and  lived  to  maturity  in  the  hamlet  Ana- 
thoth,  in  the  hills  two  and  one-half  miles  northeast  of  Jerusalem, 
with  barren  hills  to  the  east  and  northeast  and  the  salt  sea  to  the 
southeast,  "striking  but  depressing  elements  of  landscape,"  says 
Cheyne.  "The  vision  of  the  dreary  wilderness  to  the  east  and  the 
scorching  of  its  dry  winds  ....  have  impressed  themselves  on 
his  prophecies."^  Being  reared  in  the  vicinity  of  Jerusalem,  it  is 
to  be  supposed  that  he  knew  something  of  city  life  as  represented 
there. 

But  more  important  for  our  purpose  are  the  family  influences. 
The  book  of  Jeremiah  makes  the  prophet  the  son  of  Hilkiah  of  the 
priests  that  were  in  Anathoth,  in  the  land  of  Benjamin.  Authori- 
ties are  quite  agreed  in  connecting  this  Hilkiah  with  the  priestly 
family  of  Abiathar  who  was  banished  to  Anathoth  and  deprived 
of  priestly  rights^  for  his  part  in  the  coup  of  Adonijah. 

But  since  the  tradition  had  come  down  to  Jeremiah's  day  that 
they  were  a  family  of  priests,  and  since  it  is  tolerably  certain  that 
they  ofl&ciated  as  such  at  Anathoth,  the  priestly  rights  must 
have  been  restored,  or  at  any  rate  resumed,  at  some  time  after 
Solomon's  day.  Thus  it  is  probable  that  the  family  still  enjoyed, 
though  in  an  inferior  and  out-of-the-way  place  and  with  waning 
influence,  the  dignity  of  priestly  position.  Now  this  family  of 
Abiathar  had  in  the  annals  of  their  history  two  facts  upon  which 

'  Henderson,  article  "Anathoth,"  in  HDB. 
'  I  Kings  2:27. 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH  2$ 

they  loved  to  dwell.  They  claimed  descent  from  Moses  through 
Eliezer  and  Phinehas,  and  Abiathar  had  been  the  close  friend  and 
counselor  of  King  David,  throughout  most  of  his  public  life.  Then 
there  was  a  story  of  persecution,  for  Ahimelech,  the  father  of 
Abiathar,  was  high  priest  at  Nob  when  Saul  ordered  the  slaughter 
of  the  priests  for  their  part  in  aiding  David.  Later  Abiathar,  who 
was  the  only  one  to  escape,  suffered  the  above-named  persecution 
under  Solomon.  It  is  rather  surprising  that  so  celebrated  a  priestly 
family,  after  falling  out  of  history  for  some  three  hundred  years, 
should  at  this  late  date  produce  so  notable  a  scion.  He  seems  to 
be  the  product  of  its  long-pent-up  piety  and  energy,  the  glorious 
flower  of  its  expiry. 

Jeremiah  seems  also  to  have  inherited  a  tribal  loyalty,  as  evi- 
denced in  his  acquaintance  with  the  legend  of  Rachel  weeping  for 
her  children  and  refusing  comfort.  Such  stories  as  this,  added  to 
those  of  family  persecutions,  served,  in  his  tender  years,  to  stir  up 
and  cultivate  the  sympathy  and  intensity  of  feeHng,  which  the 
great  prophet  manifested  to  such  a  degree  in  later  years. 

It  is  questionable  whether  Jeremiah  was  ever,  until  his  very  last 
years,  completely  detached  from  Anathoth  and  the  home  restraints. 
Even  in  the  busiest  period  of  his  career  he  made  visits,  social  or 
commercial,  to  his  native  village.  It  is  but  natural  that  on  his 
last  recorded  visit,  he  goes  not  simply  to  buy  a  field,  but  to  redeem 
the  old  estate,  to  make  out  inheritance  papers.  Jeremiah  remained 
unmarried,  hence  he,  as  a  normal  man,  continued,  even  in  the  face 
of  misunderstandings  and  persecutions,  to  prize  the  old  home  rela- 
tionships, perhaps  with  growing  intensity  as  the  years  of  deep  dis- 
appointment and  failure  came. 

In  a  family  where  the  family  glory  centered  about  such  person- 
ages as  Rachel,  Moses,  and  David,  we  can  easily  beheve  that  the 
highest  political  and  religious  ideals  which  the  nation  had  had 
through  the  centuries  were  kept  vividly  in  the  foreground. 

A  noble  family,  whose  fortunes  are  waning  and  whose  future  is 
hopeless,  feeds  its  yearning  and  bolsters  its  pride  by  the  recounting 
of  its  past  glories.  It  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  in  this  family 
there  was  a  revival  of  hope  in  the  stirring  days  of  Isaiah  about  a 
century  earlier.     In  the  fact  that  Judah  was  left  when  Israel  was 


24       THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

taken  and  that  Jerusalem  was  well-nigh  miraculously  spared,  there 
may  have  been  a  gleam  of  hope,  and  the  prophetic  ideals  aroused 
at  this  time  may  help  to  explain  Jeremiah's  advent. 

In  the  earlier  experiences  of  his  life,  also,  one  is  inclined  to  find 
the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  Jeremiah  felt  himself  called  to  be 
a  prophet,  even  from  before  his  birth.  This  statement  of  his  made 
in  connection  with  the  call  is  more  than  a  strong  figure  of  speech. 
It  is  by  no  means  an  unheard-of  thing  for  pious  mothers,  hoping 
and  praying  for  sons,  to  dedicate  their  unborn  children  to  the 
service  of  God.  This  was  true  in  a  marked  degree  of  Jewish 
mothers,  especially  in  the  case  of  the  firstborn.  We  can  well 
believe  Jeremiah's  mother  to  have  been  such  a  woman.  This  son, 
with  whom  Jahwe  was  honoring  her,  was  to  be  more  than  a  mediocre 
priest  officiating  at  a  small  and  unimportant  sanctuary.  Stirred 
by  the  records  of  the  great  prophets  of  a  century  earher,  she  felt 
that  he  would  be  a  worthy  scion  of  his  great  forbears.  Some  great 
Hosean  or  Isaian  task  was  to  be  his. 

Naturally,  as  soon  as  the  son  became  old  enough  to  understand 
it,  his  mother  told  him  of  her  hope  for  him,  recounted  the  deeds  of 
the  past  heroes  of  the  family,  detailing  as  well  the  pathetic  story 
of  the  persecutions,  and,  in  short,  surrounded  him  with  all  those 
influences  which  would  foster  and  fix  in  his  purposive  life  a  desire 
for  that  vocation  which  she  had  cherished  for  him  and  to  which 
she  had  dedicated  him.  In  the  quiet  of  the  hamlet  home,  he  drank 
in  the  inspiration  of  these  heroes  of  days  long  gone  by.  Upon  them 
and  their  deeds  his  imagination  fed,  so  that,  while  dulness  reigned 
on  the  outside,  the  Jewish  youth  lived  on  the  inside  with  most 
inspiring  companions. 

Contemplative  power  developed,  and  to  his  inner  experience 
his  mother's  God  began  to  be  a  very  real  person. 

But  we  must  look  nearer  at  hand  in  the  events  then  transpiring 
to  find  some  of  the  influences  that  contributed  to  the  making  of 
Jeremiah.  We  must  take  into  consideration  the  bloody  and  pol- 
luted years  of  Manasseh's  reign.  The  wonder  is,  not  that  we  find 
a  Jeremiah  arising  near  the  end  of  the  period,  but  that  this  half- 
century  of  insult  to  decent  religion  did  not  produce  more  than  one 
prophet  of  a  high  order,  for  the  church,  in  the  days  of  her  persecu- 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  2$ 

tion,  must  produce  the  men  who  are  able  to  discern  and  denounce 
the  injustice  under  which  she  lies  prostrate  and  helpless. 

The  list  of  Manasseh's  abominations,  given  in  II  Kings,  chap.  21, 
it  seems  would  have  challenged  open  resentment  and  opposition, 
but  when  we  read  further  that  ''Manasseh  shed  innocent  blood  very 
much,  until  he  had  filled  Jerusalem  from  one  end  to  the  other,"  it 
is  clear  why  there  was  no  open  opposition  to  his  most  tyrannical 
censorship.  H.  P.  Smith  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  this  was, 
however,  probably  a  period  of  secret  literary  effort.  The  Deutero- 
nomic  writer  probably  produced  his  new  edition  of  the  Mosaic 
legislation  some  time  near  the  end  of  this  reign.  The  prophecies 
of  Amos,  Hosea,  and  Isaiah  were  being  studied.  The  J  and  E 
narratives  may  have  been  brought  together  into  one  document 
during  this  period. 

When  people  are  reading  they  are  thinking  as  well.  Even  if 
Manasseh's  religious  ideas  and  practices  were  in  part  a  reaction  in 
favor  of  the  old  popular  rehgion,  there  was  enough  in  them  that 
was  new  and  offensively  foreign  to  arouse  the  suspicion  and  resent- 
ment of  every  loyal  Hebrew.  Jeremiah's  family  must  have  been 
among  those  who  felt  the  insult  of  such  measures  as  the  king  insti- 
tuted, especially  if  he  had  polluted  their  shrine.  To  them  the 
reckless  Manasseh  must  have  been  the  incarnation  of  cruelty  and 
irreligion,  however  religious  he  may  have  seemed  to  himself.  For 
them  it  was  a  day  of  waiting,  for  it  would  be  foolhardy  openly  to 
invite  inquisition.  Jeremiah  may  have  been  barely  old  enough  to 
appreciate  the  condition  of  affairs  before  Manassah  passed  oflf  the 
stage.  Later,  as  a  boy  of  eight  or  ten  years,  he  may  have  heard 
descriptions  of  the  desecrations  of  religion  wrought  by  the  king 
who  was  considered  so  great  a  disgrace  to  his  good  father.  These 
stories  continued  to  be  told  after  Manasseh  had  been  "gathered  to 
his  fathers." 

To  sum  up,  Jeremiah  was  born  in  a  time  of  the  prostitution  of 
religion  at  the  court  and  of  persecution  of  the  true  rehgionists,  and 
in  a  family  which,  though  of  a  pure  and  spiritual  religion,  had  with 
all  others  been  suppressed  by  the  reckless  attitude  of  the  wicked 
king;  a  condition  once  again  fostering  the  contemplative  spirit  in 
a  youth  of  sensitive  nature  and  lofty  religious  teaching. 


36       THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

A  most  inviting  yet  extremely  elusive  problem  presents  itself 
when  we  undertake  to  evaluate  the  influence  of  the  earlier  prophets 
on  Jeremiah.  The  difficulty  is  heightened  by  the  fact  that  we  do 
not  know  the  order  of  Jeremiah's  writings  with  sufl&cient  certainty, 
nor  do  we  know  whether  any  of  his  sermons  were  in  written  or  in 
"sketch"  form  before  Baruch  wrote  them  down  in  604  at  the 
prophet's  dictation.  Here  again  we  can  do  no  better  than  assign 
the  material  in  chaps.  2-6,  to  the  earher  years  of  Jeremiah's  minis- 
try, in  accordance  with  the  best  criticism.  It  is  impossible  at  this 
time  to  make  a  close  comparison  of  the  thought  and  literary  form 
of  Jeremiah  with  those  of  the  earlier  prophets,  but  a  few  observa- 
tions may  be  in  place. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  reign  of  Manasseh  was  one  of 
persecution  and  censorship  of  the  rehgion  which  Hezekiah  his 
father  had  promoted,  but  that  at  the  same  time  it  was  probably  a 
time  of  considerable  quiet  Uterary  activity.  The  writings  of  the 
eighth-century  prophets  were  doubtless  recopied  and  quite  widely 
read  by  those  who  were  sympathetic  with  their  point  of  view. 
Jeremiah  was  one  of  these,  and  may  well  have  read  and  assimilated 
these  writings.  While  some  startUng  external  event,  such  as  the 
Scythian  invasion,  may  have  served  as  the  immediate  occasion  of 
his  call,  yet,  when  we  read  his  call-experience  we  are  struck  with 
its  great  similarity  to  that  of  the  great  prophets  preceding  him, 
though  it  has  also  its  distinct  points  of  variance.  Especially  does 
it  agree  in  essence  with  the  call  of  Isaiah,  though  depicted  in  much 
less  magnificent  imagery.  It  seems  but  natural  that  the  prophet 
would,  in  his  sincerer  moments  in  boyhood  and  in  youth,  seek  just 
such  experiences  as  the  great  men  whom  he  admired  had  had  before 
him.  Such  a  view  would  in  no  sense  detract  from  the  independence 
or  genuineness  of  his  own  experience,  nor  on  the  other  hand  would 
it  by  any  means  explain  all  we  find  in  Jeremiah's  religious  experi- 
ence. But  it  may  help  to  explain  why  he  was  able  to  go  deeper  and 
more  vitally  to  the  heart  of  things  in  developing  a  truer  inner 
fellowship  with  God.  He  was  himself  a  true  seeker  after  such  an 
experience,  and  he  had,  to  assist  him  in  his  quest,  the  record  of  the 
experiences  of  those  who  had  been  pioneers  in  the  field  of  religious 
insight. 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  37 

But  do  his  writings  or  oral  deliverances  show  dependence  on 
these  prophets?  No  one  can  well  deny  that  we  find  on  almost 
every  page  of  the  Book  of  Jeremiah,  as  we  now  have  it,  reminders 
of  the  Deuteronomic  style.  It  is  not  difficult  to  detect  its  peculiar 
phraseology  and  its  hortatory  style.  This  is  not  altogether  lacking 
in  this  earlier  part  of  the  book,  but  is  not  so  marked  as  in  other 
parts.  This  Deuteronomic  influence  could  scarcely  have  come  in 
until  after  the  eighteenth  year  of  Josiah,  but  would  have  had  ample 
time  to  make  its  impress  before  the  first  roll  was  written. 

Now  when  we  examine  chaps.  3-4,  we  are  at  once  struck  with 
its  similarity  to  Hosea  in  both  form  and  material.  The  unfaithful 
wife  is  depicted  here  almost  as  vividly  and  as  pathetically  as  in 
Hosea.  The  word  "backshding,"  used  only  by  Hosea  up  to  this 
time,  occurs  in  Jeremiah  thirteen  times,  seven  of  which  are  in 
chap.  3  and  one  in  chap.  2.  The  whole  conception  of  chap.  3  is  that 
of  Hosea,  and  much  of  his  tender,  forgiving  spirit  finds  place  here. 
This  cannot  be  said  of  any  other  part  of  the  book  in  anything  like 
the  same  degree.  This  similarity  to  Hosea  is  the  more  striking 
when  we  recall  that  Jeremiah  was  unmarried  and  could  not  have 
appreciated  in  the  fullest  sense  the  marital  experiences  of  Hosea. 
Moreover,  Jeremiah  was  still  a  very  young  man  at  this  time.  May 
not  these  facts  indicate  that  in  his  earliest  ministry,  perhaps  his 
very  first  series  of  sermons,  the  prophet  borrows  largely  from  the 
older  prophet  so  dear  to  his  own  heart?  This  probabiUty  is 
heightened  in  the  light  of  his  unfitness  by  experience  to  present  such 
a  message.  It  is  not  unnatural  that  a  timid,  shrinking  youth,  with- 
out objective  experience  to  serve  as  a  content  for  his  message, 
should,  when  he  felt  himself  pushed  out  by  the  spirit,  seize  upon 
the  message  of  one  who  had  often  been  his  inspiration.  After  this 
first  struggle,  when  he  has  come  into  vital  touch  with  the  life  of 
the  people  to  whom  he  is  to  minister,  a  greater  independence  asserts 
itself  in  both  the  form  and  content  of  his  preaching. 

Confessedly,  it  is  much  more  difficult  to  find  traces  of  an  influ- 
ence of  Amos  or  Isaiah  in  these  earHer  oracles.  One  may  easily  find 
thought  that  is  akin  to  one  or  the  other,  or  both,  of  these  great 
prophets,  but  this  does  not  by  any  means  prove  dependence. 


28        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

In  chap.  2,  God's  people  are  called  into  a  law  court  to  give  tes- 
timony against  him,  and  they  are  to  return  to  him  only  by  repent- 
ance and  cleansing  (see  Isa.,  chap.  i).  In  the  same  chapter  foreign 
alliances  of  all  sorts  are  discouraged  by  the  prophet  (see  also  Isa.). 
Some  of  Amos'  vivid  pictures  of  destruction,  especially  by  the  lion, 
are  to  be  found  here.  The  remnant  idea,  granting  that  it  is  genuine 
in  any  of  these  prophets,  is  common  to  all.  Similarly,  extreme 
desolation  of  land  and  people  is  common  to  the  three. 

Judged  by  any  standard,  it  would  seem  quite  impossible  to 
exaggerate  the  effect  of  the  Scythian  period  upon  the  Ufe  and  the 
future  ministry  of  the  young  Jeremiah.  A  large  part  of  chaps. 
4-6,  as  well  as  considerable  passages  in  chaps.  7-10,  dealing  with 
destruction  to  come  from  the  north,  are  commonly  held  to  have 
been  inspired  by  this  long-drawn-out  invasion,  which  carried  such 
frightful  consequences  to  the  great  nations  of  Asia. 

When  we  come  to  a  specific  treatment  of  the  Scythians  in  their 
strange  behavior  in  Asia,  facts  fail,  but  imagination  is  fertile  and 
eloquent  and  easily  suppUes  the  missing  data.  The  Greek  tradi- 
tion based  on  Herodotus  tells  us  that  the  Scythians  invaded  Asia 
for  a  period  of  twenty-eight  years,  before  mysteriously  withdrawing, 
not  to  return  again.  The  same  tradition  tells  us  that  Psam- 
metichus  I  of  Egypt  who  came  to  the  throne  of  Egypt  in  640  B.C. 
besieged  Ashdod  twenty-eight  years,  and  was  forced  to  desist  by 
the  Scythians.  Furthermore,  Cambyses  of  Media  who  began  his 
reign  in  625  was  forced  in  620,  by  these  same  Scythians,  to  give  up 
the  siege  of  Nineveh.  The  best  historians  of  this  period  are  there- 
fore inclined  to  place  the  first  appearance  of  the  Scythians  in  Asia 
at  about  627  B.C.,  just  in  time  to  give  the  incentive  which  brought 
out  the  prophets,  Jeremiah  and  Zephaniah,  and  their  withdrawal 
from  Asia  somewhere  between  599  and  590.  However,  it  is  a  prac- 
tical certainty  that  by  about  610  these  raiders  had  been  satisfied 
by  Egypt's  tribute  and  had  withdrawn  beyond  the  Euphrates,  for 
in  608  Necho  came  all  the  way  to  Carchemish  with  no  resistance  at 
all  except  on  the  part  of  Josiah  of  Judah.  By  this  time,  then,  the 
Scythians  must  have  retreated  into  Asia  Minor,  for  only  two  or 
three  years  later  Nebuchadrezzar  of  Babylonia  was  free  to  dispute 
Egypt's  progress  in  western  Asia.     No  great  dependence  can  be 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  29 

placed  upon  Herodotus'  figure  of  twenty-eight  years,  but  it  would  not 
be  at  all  strange  if  rumors  of  these  bloodthirsty  hordes  reached  as 
far  as  Palestine  and  Syria,  at  least  several  years  before  they  broke 
upon  the  Medes  in  620. 

From  his  very  earliest  years,  Jeremiah  may  have  heard  the  cur- 
rent stories  of  this  mysterious  north-region  and  of  the  disasters 
which  were  to  come  from  that  general  direction,  but  when  he 
reached  the  age  of  twelve  to  fifteen  years,  a  most  impressionable 
time,  these  more  or  less  vague  stories  were  given  Ufe  and  substance 
by  rumors  that  barbaric  hordes  in  great  numbers  were  on  their  way 
south,  destroying  everything  as  they  went,  and  that  the  stronger 
peoples  were  falling  before  them  with  seemingly  no  more  successful 
resistance  than  the  weaker.  Let  us  try  to  get  the  setting  still  more 
specifically  before  us. 

If  Jeremiah,  son  of  a  loyal  Hebrew  family,  and  a  lover  of  his 
people,  at  an  age  as  young  as  twelve  or  fifteen  years,  heard  repeated 
rumors  of  these  bloodthirsty  hordes  coming  down  in  such  vast 
numbers  from  no  one  knew  where,  devastating  all  before  them, 
caring  even  less  for  life  than  for  property,  and  heading  directly 
toward  his  own  precious  land,  we  may  form  some  idea  of  the  over- 
whelming impact  of  such  an  incident  upon  his  nervous  Ufe  and  of 
the  religious  reaction  it  would  entail.  The  days  of  **  rumors  of 
wars,"  imminent  and  momentarily  expected,  are  never-to-be- 
forgotten  days,  even  when  the  threatened  encounter  is  to  be  between 
civilized  peoples  who  go  to  war  in  thoroughly  orderly  fashion;  but 
here  is  an  event  which  has  had  but  few  equals  in  history  in  arousing 
terror  and  foreboding.  To  the  religious  mind  it  could  appeal  in 
no  other  light  than  as  a  direct  judgment  of  God  upon  the  nations, 
and  he  would  indeed  be  a  sanguine  Jew  who,  in  the  face  of  such  an 
impending  danger,  could  calmly  sit  by  and  expect  his  small  nation 
to  be  immune,  especially  when  the  mightier  peoples  fell  helpless  and 
cowering  before  such  a  foe. 

It  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  in  these  highly  impressionable 
days,  Jeremiah,  as  a  mere  boy,  together  with  many  other  followers 
of  the  earher  prophets,  learned  to  cast  himself  in  utter  helplessness 
and  despair  upon  the  God  whom  he  knew  to  have  so  often  protected 
and  delivered  his  people  in  the  past.    Nor  would  it  be  strange  if 


30        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

this  Strain,  nerve-racking  and  long  continued,  had  much  to  do  in 
producing  the  Jeremiah  of  later  years  with  his  excesses  of  moodiness 
and  despair. 

These  stealthy  riders  finally  came  within  the  horizon.  Media 
and  Assyria  fell  a  prey  to  them,  and  they  were  making  their  way 
down  the  sea-coast  through  Syria  to  Egypt.  They  might  appear 
at  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  any  day,  and  no  one  could  describe  the 
abominations  the  holy  city  might  undergo  at  their  hands.  But 
they  rode  by,  and  Jerusalem  was  left  undisturbed  in  her  lofty  seat. 
In  the  meantime  Jeremiah  passed  from  childhood  to  young  man- 
hood, the  age  when  a  Jewish  boy  was  expected  to  choose  a  vocation. 
It  is  an  age  when  young  men  see  visions  of  their  possibilities  today, 
and  tomorrow  despair  of  ever  being  anything  but  the  most  common 
and  mediocre.  We  shall  never  be  able  to  say  with  certainty  that 
it  was  a  wave  of  this  Scythian  movement,  possibly  more  imminent 
than  any  before  it,  that  pushed  the  young  prophet  out  upon  his 
stormy  life-mission.  Some  such  external  stimulus  as  this  is  entirely 
compatible  with,  but  not  necessary  to,  the  call-experience.'  Sufl&ce 
it  to  say,  that  the  whole  movement,  when  set  in  relation  to  other 
events  and  beliefs  of  the  times,  must  have  strongly  impressed  the 
young  Jeremiah. 

Probably  the  most  important  belief  of  the  time,  especially 
when  viewed  in  the  light  of  events,  was  the  concept  or  doctrine 
of  the  "Day  of  Jahwe."  Jeremiah  nowhere  specifically  mentions 
this  doctrine,  but  Zephaniah,  his  contemporary,  shows  plainly 
that  such  a  teaching  was  current.  From  Amos  on,  there  had 
been  two  contradictory  interpretations  of  this  coming  event. 
Amos  found  among  his  contemporaries  an  attitude  of  careless,  even 
bigoted  ease,  because  they  seemed  to  believe  that  they  were  soon 

'  Hosea  was  probably  impelled  to  undertake  his  prophetic  mission  by  the  tragedy 
of  his  marital  exjjerience;  this  may  be  held  true,  even  though  we  hold  that  he  knew 
from  the  first  what  the  consequences  would  be.  The  actual  living  through  of  these 
experiences  taught  him  his  message  for  his  people.  Though  Amos  reports  visions  that 
came  to  him,  it  is  probable  that  the  reflective  element  predominated  in  his  call- 
experience.  This  seems  true  also  in  the  case  of  Isaiah.  All  these  prophets  had  a 
common  incentive  in  the  social  and  religious  conditions  of  the  times.  It  is  evident 
from  the  history  of  religion  on  the  higher  intellectual  plane,  that  there  are  two  broad 
types  of  temperament,  the  reflective  and  the  more  objective  or  commonplace.  Jere- 
miah seems  to  represent  the  latter  type,  but  is  not  a  pronounced  example. 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH  3 1 

to  enter  upon,  if  indeed  they  were  not  already  experiencing,  a 
millennial  age,  called  the  day  of  Jahwe,  an  age  of  plenty  and  ease 
in  which  Jahwe  would  give  to  his  people  the  desire  of  his  heart  and 
their  hearts  as  well.    It  was  to  be  essentially  an  epoch  of  unparal- 
leled physical  prosperity.     The  stern  Amos  with  his  keen  ethical 
insight  could  not  brook  so  superficial  and  degrading  a  doctrine. 
Jahwe's  ideal  of  perfection  and  righteousness  was  something  far 
other  than  the  revel  of  those  who  were  physically  fat  but  morally 
depraved.     The  day  of  Jahwe  will  be  a  day  of  darkness,  not  of  light, 
was  his  revolutionary  retort  to  their  self-satisfied  refrain,  ''The  Day 
of  Jahwe,  the  Day  of  Jahwe."    Amos  here  set  the  standard  of 
thinking  for  the  prophets  who  followed.     Jahwe  is  no  respecter  of 
persons  or  of  nations.     His  wrath  and  judgment  are  upon  the  sinful 
nation,  whether  it  be  Israel,  Judah,  or  some  nation  outside  the  pale 
of  special  privilege.    With  this  prophetic  attitude  toward  the  "Day 
of  Jahwe"  Jeremiah  must  have  been  acquainted  from  his  earliest 
years.    Zephaniah  (vs.  15)  reads,  *'That  day  is  a  day  of  trouble 
and  distress,  a  day  of  wasteness  and  desolation,  a  day  of  darkness 
and  gloominess,  a  day  of  clouds  and  thick  darkness,"  etc.    For 
ZephaniaJi  the  day  of  Jahwe  is  to  be  a  world- judgment  in  which 
Judah  will  by  no  means  be  spared.     We  can  then  scarcely  conceive 
of  Jeremiah  being  reared  in  an  atmosphere  where  this  idea  of  the 
day  of  Jahwe  was  not  known,  and  furthermore  he  must  have  shared 
it,  for  from  his  very  earUest  ministry  he  does  not  fall  one  jot  or 
tittle  behind  the  most  zealous  prophet  in  preaching  the  judgment 
of  Jahwe  upon  his  sinful  people.  ,  We  have  to  do  then  with  a  young 
man  who  is  brought  up  in  a  priestly  family,  but  under  the  spell  of 
the  teachiiig_QLthe  great  prophets;   who  lives  in  a  dreary  village 
just  off  the  Jordan  valley,  but  within  easy  reach  of  the  capital  city, 
the  center  of  all  Judah's  activities;   whose  generation  inherits  all 
the  pollutions  and  disastrous  results  of  Manasseh's  reign,  for  whjom 
the  day  of  Jahwe  is  to  be  a  time  of  reckoning  for  the  wicked  genera- 
tion in  which  he  Hved;  and  to  crown  all,  giving  specific  and  vital 
meaning  to  this  combination  of  events,  an  imknown  people  of  cruel 
propensities  and  insatiable  appetite  for  blood  and  booty  comes  out 
of  the  mysterious  north.    Is  not  this  people  the  direct  and  tangible 
form  of  the  judgment  so  long  foretold,  yet  ever  unheeded,  that 


32        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

Jahwe  is  now  to  bring  upon  his  people  ?  Is  there  not  now  as  in  the 
past,  a  crying  need  that  a  prophet  should  arise  to  call  his  people, 
for  the  last  time,  to  genuine  and  wholesale  repentance?  Who  is 
better  fitted  for  this  exalted  office  than  the  heir  of  such  conditions  ? 

II.    Jeremiah's  call 

Each  of  the  greater  prophets  describes  his  call  in  a  way  that 
leaves  no  doubt  of  his  consciousness  of  a  distinct  and  unique  expe- 
rience. Whatever  elements  may  have  entered  into  his  preparatory 
experiences,  there  comes  a  time  when,  in  a  moment  of  some  sort  of 
spiritual  exaltation,  an  irresistible  compulsion,  which  he  interprets 
as  from  without  and  above  himself,  seizes  him,  overpowers  his  will, 
thwarts  his  better  judgment,  and  sweeps  him  out  into  his  great 
prophetic  task  with  all  its  hardships  and  persecutions,  and  its 
promise  of  nothing  better  than  doubtful  success,  when  judged  by 
any  ordinary  standards.  To  these  experiences  Jeremiah  was  no 
exception  but  rather,  in  many  ways,  their  most  striking  fulfilment. 
The  facts  of  the  call-incident  are  very  simply  related  in  chap.  i. 
The  prophet  hears  the  word  of  Jahwe,  saying  to  him  that  he  has 
been  prenatally  destined  a  prophet  to  the  nations.  The  prophet 
reverentially  repHes,  pleading  his  youth  and  inexperience.  He  is 
immediately  reassured  that  this  great  personal  power  which  is 
compelling  him  to  his  task  will  protect  and  deliver  him  in  every 
emergency.  The  divine  hand  touches  his  Hps  and  an  accompany- 
ing voice  says,  "Behold,  I  have  put  my  words  in  thy  mouth;  .... 
I  have  this  day  set  thee  over  the  nations  and  over  the  kingdoms,  to 
pluck  up  and  to  break  down  and  to  destroy  and  to  overthrow  (to 
build  and  to  plant)!"  Then  immediately  follow  the  two  visions 
of  the  almond  tree  and  the  boiling  caldron. 

These  statements  must  now  be  the  subject  of  psychological 
interpretation.  It  is  evident  that  Jeremiah  was  yet  a  youth,  quite 
certainly  not  more  than  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  more  probably 
between  the  years  of  eighteen  and  twenty-two.  Furthermore,  the 
young  prophet  is  now,  and  probably  not  now  for  the  first  time, 
clearly  convinced  of  a  prenatal  preparation  for  his  ofl&ce.  However 
indistinct  these  tingUngs  of  conscience  may  have  been  in  his  earlier 
years,  in  this  moment  of  exaltation  and  spiritual  stress  these  feel- 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  33 

ings,  half-suppressed  and  but  half -understood,  come  out  to  clear 
expression.  As  a  youth,  just  out  of  the  later  adolescent  years  and 
just  on  the  brink  of  maturing  manhood,  he  now  feels  driven  to  face 
honestly  and  fearlessly  the  question  of  a  life  work.  He  approaches 
this  hour  the  more  tremblingly,  for  he  is  practically  certain  of  the 
outcome.  There  is  but  one  thing  for  him  to  do.  He  understands 
now,  as  he  could  not  do  hitherto,  how  all  the  influences  in  his  life 
have  converged  upon  this  moment.  There  has  been  an  ordering 
hand  in  his  Ufe,  which  began  its  task  before  he  was  born,  and 
through  twenty  years  of  childhood  and  youth  has  been  molding 
him  to  become  what  he  now  unmistakably  finds  himself  called  to 
be.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  he  shrinks  back  for  the  moment,  for- 
getting that  manhood's  responsibilities  have  arrived  ?  In  the  great 
illumination  that  floods  his  inner  life,  the  obstacles  and  oppositions, 
as  well  as  the  satisfactions,  are  magnified.  But  his  hesitation  is 
only  for  a  moment.  Neither  youth  nor  cowardice  can  serve  as  a 
legitimate  excuse.  His  sensitive,  retiring  nature  may  shrink  back 
from  the  task,  but  his  will  must  bravely  take  up  the  burden,  and 
count  no  excuse  sufficient  to  relieve  him  of  this  resp>onsibility.  So 
powerful  and  vivid  is  the  impression  that  the  prophet  can  best 
represent  it,  naively  or  figuratively,  as  the  divine  hand  touching 
his  lips  and  placing  thereon  the  message  he  is  to  utter.  The  form 
of  this  figure  may  be  borrowed  from  Isaiah,  but  the  essence  of  it 
is  far  different.  Jeremiah  seems  not  to  have  been  conscious  of  the 
need  of  any  ceremonial  cleansing,  as  was  Isaiah,  before  the  great 
and  holy  God.  He  needed  only  to  be  endowed  with  a  message, 
the  unfolding  and  propagation  of  which  would  occupy  his  time  and 
energies  for  life. 

His  mission  is  to  the  nations,  if  we  may  follow  the  text.  At 
first  thought,  this  seems  a  much  larger  conception  of  his  field  of 
activity  than  Isaiah  and  Amos  had  of  theirs.  They  nowhere  state 
or  even  imply  that  they  felt  called  to  deal  with  people  outside  their 
own ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  lived  in  a  time  when  people  were 
restless  and  changing,  and  they  could  not  deal  with  their  own 
people,  their  history,  and  their  destiny,  without  putting  them  in 
their  international  setting.  Both  these  great  prophets  were  states- 
men in  the  better  sense  of  the  word.    Amos  understood  the  history 


34        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

of  many  peoples  and  seemed  to  have  a  judgment  of  historical  events 
quite  unbiased  for  a  man  of  his  day.  Isaiah  had  rather  a  complex 
political  situation  to  fathom,  but  he  seemed  to  comprehend  the 
broader  movements  of  nations  and  he  did  not  lose  sight  of  these  in 
Judah's  imminent  political  dangers. 

But  Judah  was  now  much  more  cosmopolitan  than  either  Judah 
or  Israel  could  have  been  in  Isaiah's  day.  Assyria  had  manifested 
her  power  in  Syria  and  Palestine  for  nearly  a  century.  During  all 
this  time  Egypt  had  stood  ready,  when  not  entirely  at  the  mercy 
of  the  power  on  the  Euphrates,  to  incite  the  small  Syrian  kingdoms 
to  rebellion  and  to  proffer  them  doubtful  assistance.  Now  there 
were  signs  that  Assyria  was  weakening  and  Babylonia  was  taking 
a  new  hold  on  life.  New  nations  were  arising  in  the  north,  the 
northeast,  and  the  northwest,  and  pushing  south  with  considerable 
show  of  success  against  the  more  effete  peoples. 

The  history  of  Israel  had  its  lessons  for  those  in  Judah  who  were 
sober  enough  to  heed  them.  Verily,  Jeremiah  was  to  be  a  prophet 
to  the  nations,  for  his  nation  was  more  intimately  a  part  of  great 
world-movements  than  ever  before.  In  the  light  of  Zephaniah's 
world-judgment,  may  Jeremiah  not  have  had  some  similar  idea  of 
the  coming  day  of  Jahwe,  even  though  he  became  at  once  so 
absorbed  in  his  duty  to  his  own  people  that  this  overtowered  his 
broader  and  less  pressing  mission?  Many  of  his  descriptions  of 
the  wholesale  destruction  that  is  to  come  from  the  north  are  capable 
of  a  very  broad  application.  Jeremiah,  then,  did  just  what  any 
broad-minded  and  far-seeing  statesman  would  do:  he  bade  his 
people  cease  their  temporizing  policy  and  study  the  signs  of  the 
times,  and  choose  wisely  the  course  they  would  follow. 

But  what  is  to  be  the  prophet's  message  to  the  nations,  including 
his  own  ?  Zephaniah  gives  us  at  least  one  clue.  The  condition  of 
the  times  was  such  that  a  Hebrew  prophet  must  have  in  his  message 
the  strongly  destructive  note.  The  preaching  of  the  earlier  great 
prophets  would  lead  us  to  the  same  result.  Hence,  we  may  feel 
certain  that  from  the  very  first  Jeremiah  felt  called  "to  pluck  up 
and  to  break  down  and  to  destroy  and  to  overthrow."  He  had 
brooded  long  enough  over  the  deplorable  state  of  affairs,  socially 


THE  PROPHET  JEREMIAH  35 

and  politically  as  well  as  morally,  to  feel  this  message  clear.  But 
was  he  "to  build  and  to  plant"  as  well,  and  if  so,  in  what  sense 
could  a  mission  of  this  sort  extend  its  effects  to  the  nations  beyond 
his  own? 

The  manuscript  evidence  for  the  retention  of  these  words  in  the 
text  is  almost  unanimous.  This  does  not  preclude  the  possibility 
that  one  of  the  several  redactors  of  Jeremiah  added  them,  in  order 
to  soften  the  effect  of  the  extremely  harsh  combination  of  words 
immediately  preceding.  If,  as  some  scholars  hold,  there  was  a 
time,  exilic  or  post-exilic,  when  the  writings  of  the  great  prophets 
were  subjected  to  this  sort  of  treatment  to  make  them  more  toler- 
able and  constructive,  Jeremiah  must  have  suffered  change,  along 
with  the  others. 

When  we  examine  the  Book  of  Jeremiah  as  a  whole,  with  this 
point  in  mind,  it  is  difl&cult  to  find  anything  hopeful  or  constructive 
until  after  the  first  captivity  has  taken  place.  In  the  earlier  por- 
tions of  the  book  covering  the  report  of  only  four  or  five  years  at 
the  beginning  of  his  ministry,  taking  the  text  as  it  now  stands, 
there  are  two  or  three  brief  hints  at  the  hope  of  a  remnant,  but  it 
is  by  no  means  certain  that  these  are  original.  The  great  central 
portion  of  his  prophetic  career  is  somber  with  the  clouds  of  despair 
of  any  redemption  for  the  nation. 

Thus  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  constructive  phase 
of  his  message  was  a  later  induction,  arrived  at  some  time  before 
605  when  the  roll  was  prepared.  Psychologically,  it  is  much  more 
probable  that  this  was,  to  his  mind,  a  part  of  his  original  commis- 
sion, for  no  young  man  starts  out  upon  some  great  moral  task 
prepossessed  with  the  assurance  of  total  defeat;  rather  does  he  san- 
guinely  expect  some  considerable  measure  of  success.  Thus  it  is 
quite  possible  that  when  he  received  his  call  and  commission, 
Jeremiah  saw  clearly  that  there  must  be  the  preaching  of  severe 
judgment  as  the  earliest  and  dominant  note  of  his  message,  but  he 
must  have  hoped  that,  after  this  most  arduous  and  disagreeable  task 
had  been  faithfully  completed,  there  would  be  constructive  results, 
and  that  at  least  a  renmant  of  his  own  nation  would  return  unto 
Jahwe.    It  is  doubtful  whether  Jeremiah's  vision  of  the  future 


36        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

included  other  nations  in  the  scope  of  this  more  hopeful  result  of 
his  ministry,  as  it  must  have  included  them  more  or  less  vitally 
in  the  expectation  of  a  general  judgment  for  evil. 

Immediately  following  the  record  of  the  call-experience  there  are 
set  forth  two  visions  which  came  to  Jeremiah,  no  doubt  soon  after, 
and  probably  in  close  connection  with,  the  call.  At  any  rate  there 
is  no  psychological  difl&culty  in  placing  them  here.  After  such  an 
awakening  the  prophet's  mind  is  virgin  soil,  fitted  to  receive  any 
further  light  on  his  new  and  as  yet  somewhat  obscure  path  of  duty. 
His  naturally  contemplative  mood  is  now  even  more  impressionable. 
He  sees  an  almond  tree,  the  first  of  the  trees  to  awake  in  response 
to  springtime's  touch.  Here  and  there  an  early  blossom  is  already 
visible.  The  name  of  the  tree  (shdked=  "almond  tree")  suggests  a 
line  of  thought  which  in  these  days  is  uppermost  in  his  mind.  There 
is  One  (shoked)  "watching"  over  his  word  to  perform  it,  even  as  he 
is  in  control  of  the  seasons,  and  is  the  revivifying  force  in  each  new 
springtime.  This  plainly  indicates  the  prophet's  sympathy  with 
nature  and  his  keen  response  to  its  impact  up>on  his  senses.  Just 
as  the  barren  heated  season  makes  one's  soul  feel  like  a  parched 
field,  so  the  freshness  of  spring  revives  and  stirs  to  new  activity  the 
higher  emotions  of  poet  and  genius. 

But  just  as  the  first  so-called  vision  presents  in  homely  sym- 
bolic form  the  more  positive  and  pleasing  side  of  the  prophetic 
experience,  viz.,  that  Jahwe  will  guide  and  guard  his  servant  at 
every  step,  so  the  second  vision  gives  in  a  no  less  simple  picture  the 
more  somber  side  of  the  prophet's  duty,  viz.,  the  proclamation  of 
judgment,  speedy  and  terrible,  upon  his  own  people.  Jeremiah 
sees  a  boiling  caldron,  tipping  from  the  north  and  pouring  its 
seething  contents  upon  the  people  of  the  south.  Out  of  the  mys- 
terious north  are  to  come  all  its  kingdoms  to  encamp  before  Jeru- 
salem and  the  cities  of  Judah.  This  is  to  be  the  penalty  for  apostasy 
and  idolatry.  Jeremiah  is  no  longer  cast  down  by  such  a  task. 
A  new  trust  seems  to  seize  him.  The  least  that  he  can  do  is  to  be 
true  to  his  deeper  and  more  vigorous  self.  He  now  prefers  the 
enmity  of  his  fellow-men  to  the  disapproval  of  the  One  who  watches 
over  him  and  provides  strength.  It  is  the  story,  so  often  repeated, 
of  a  great  conception  lending  vigor  and  courage  to  the  most  difficult 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  37 

undertaking.    He  can  now  conceive  of  himself  as  a  fortified  city, 
an  iron  pillar,  and  a  wall  of  brass/ 

The  most  searching  test  comes  when  the  young  prophet  fully 
realizes  how  thoroughly  his  duty  will  divorce  him  from  his  people 
and  make  him  their  outspoken,  bitter  enemy.  He  is  to  stand 
''against  the  whole  land  of  Judah,  king — princes — priests — and 
people,"  "and  they  shall  fight  against  thee."'  Not  a  friend  or 
follower  is  to  be  his,  among  all  the  better  classes  of  Judah.  To  a 
man  of  sensitive,  even  passionate,  fellow-feeling,  one  who  cherishes 
a  warm  place  in  the  affections  of  his  people,  such  a  test,  coming  at 
the  very  opening  of  his  career,  is  not  an  easy  one.  In  another 
sense,  Jeremiah  must  be  a  fortified  city,  a  citadel,  impregnable  to 
the  compromises  dictated  by  his  natural  and  fallible  love  for  his 
people,  a  wall  of  brass,  withstanding  all  the  swayings  of  instinctive 
human  feelings.  He  must  now  slink  away  to  his  watch-tower  and, 
so  long  as  life  shall  last,  preserve  a  voluntary  confinement,  counting 
those  who  by  any  natural  standards  would  be  his  bosom  friends, 
to  be  his  sworn  enemies.  As  a  compensation  for  all  this  sacrifice, 
there  comes  to  him  the  assurance,  the  only  one  that  can  soothe  and 
satisfy,  "but  they  shall  not  prevail  against  thee;   for  I  am  with 

'  These  two  visions  are  to  be  interpreted  alike.  Whether  they  are  genuine  vision 
or  not  it  may  be  impossible  to  decide.  Psychologically,  they  are  quite  explicable  on 
purely  natural  grounds,  and  our  general  interpretation  of  Jeremiah  favors  this  view. 
There  is  a  great  temptation  for  psychology  to  attempt  this  natural  interpretation  of 
all  vision,  but  such  a  procedure  is  not  necessary,  and  it  is  in  great  danger  of  not  being 
scientific.  However,  in  the  case  of  these  visions  of  Jeremiah,  their  basis  is  so  simple 
and  natural  that  the  simplest  explanation  seems  the  best.  The  prophet's  mind  is 
alert  to  receive  materials  for  the  message  which  the  call  has  imp>osed  upon  him.  These 
are  suggested  to  him  even  by  the  routine  occurrences  of  the  day. 

'  Our  interpretation  of  Jeremiah's  state  of  mind  is  here  complicated  by  the  con- 
dition of  the  sources.  Since  he  did  not  reduce  his  materials  to  writing  until  after  he 
had  passed  through  many  of  these  hardships,  it  is  perfectly  possible  to  hold  that  he 
read  back  his  later  experiences  into  these  earlier  times.  However,  there  is  certainly 
another  alternative  here.  Jeremiah  must  have  known  well  the  persecutions  through 
which  the  earlier  prophets  had  to  pass,  so  that  this  knowledge  was  an  important  part 
of  his  mental  furnishing  at  the  time  of  his  call.  Further  than  this,  he  was  able  to  see 
that  the  prophetic  manner  of  viewing  the  conditions  of  the  times — a  point  of  view 
which  he  had  inherited — was  diametrically  opposed  to  that  of  the  ruling  classes.  By 
a  little  reflection  he  could  easily  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that,  if  he  would  live  up  to 
his  ideal,  he  must  sooner  or  later  clash  with  these  various  classes. 


38       THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

thee  to  deliver  thee."  In  the  greater  triumph  and  its  resultant 
joy  the  lesser  defeat  with  its  accompanying  bitterness  is  abrogated. 

So  far  as  the  thought  content  of  Jeremiah's  call  is  concerned, 
we  find  no  great  difference  between  him  and  Isaiah  and  Amos. 
While  the  historical  setting  for  him  is  different,  it  is  yet  very  similar 
and  involves  the  same  mental  reaction.  Possibly  in  the  time  of 
Jeremiah  the  issue  is  more  distinctly  drawn,  but  this  seeming  fact 
may  be  explained  on  the  grounds  that  Jeremiah  put  his  materials 
together  much  later  and  may  have  given  them  a  tinge  of  definiteness 
bom  of  the  facts  as  they  actually  came  to  pass. 

In  two  minor  points  Jeremiah  differs  from  the  other  prophets: 
in  the  consciousness  of  prenatal  ordination,  in  which  he  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  great  New  Testament  hero,  Saul  of  Tarsus,  and  in 
that  he  at  least  twice  in  chap,  i  is  said  to  have  been  vouchsafed 
divine  encouragement  and  protection,  when  he  was  on  the  point  of 
shrinking  back  from  the  hard  task  imposed  upon  him.  Jeremiah's 
later  experiences  confirm  this  temperamental  trajt  of  discourage- 
ment and  flinching  under  fire.  Amos  seems  never  to  have  resisted 
his  call  when  once  the  logic  of  events  had  led  him  to  see  his  duty 
clearly,  and  Isaiah  was  so  transformed  by  his  majestic  vision  and 
so  relieved  by  the  consciousness  of  purification  from  sin,  that  when 
a  call  came  in  the  most  general  terms,  he  at  once  volunteered  for 
the  thankless  task  of  preaching  destruction  to  a  people  hardened 
in  heart  and  imable  to  believe.  But  Jeremiah  was  more  matter- 
of-fact.  In  this  he  resembled  Amos,  but  lacked  his  iron  will.  He 
had  not  in  his  make-up  enough  of  the  mystical,  the  idealistic,  to 
keep  him  above  the^moods  of  discouragement  and  despair  arising 
from  contact  with  the  cruel  facts  of  the  work-a-day  world.  He  was 
crushed  by  what  he  was  helpless  to  correct  and  had  no  resource,  no 
power,  within  himself,  by  virtue  of  which  to  rise  above  circum- 
stances. Hence  in  such  seasons  of  despair  his  help  must  come  from 
without  and  above  himself.  What  he  interpreted  as  fresh  infusions 
of  divine  power  was  all  that  kept  him  to  the  end. 

But  when  we  come  to  consider  the  form  in  which  the  call- 
experience  clothes  itself,  we  have  in  many  ways  a  severe  contrast 
between  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah.  Jeremiah  resembles  Amos  in  that 
his  language  is  simple,  unfigurative,  almost  prosaic.    But  through- 


THE   PROPHET  JEREMIAH  '39 

out  the  range  of  Isaiah's  writings  there  is  no  passage  more  figurative 
and  grandiloquent  than  chap.  6,  in  which  he  describes  his  call.  We 
need  not  heighten  this  contrast  by  bringing  in  the  fantastic  machin- 
ery of  Ezekiel's  call.  Amos  was  driven  to  his  task  by  the  logic  of 
righteousness.  Hosea,  out  of  the  well-nigh  divine  tenacity  of  his 
own  human  love,  saw  Jahwe's  unadulterated  love  for  a  wayward 
people.  Isaiah,  with  his  glowing  imagination,  sees  the  Holy  Grod 
entering  his  temple  with  all  the  accompaniments  which  contribute 
to  his  glory;  in  violent  contrast  to  this  is  the  uncleanness  of  him- 
self and  his  people.  Here  is  the  psychological  element,  constituting 
the  basis  for  his  call. 

Less  spectacular  and  less  literary  than  any  of  these,  though  by 
no  means  devoid  of  dramatic  power,  is  the  call  of  Jeremiah.  Not 
"Jahwe  appeared  unto  me,"  or  "Jahwe  took  me,"  but  ''The  word 
of  Jahwe  came  unto  me  saying,  I  have  appointed  thee  a  prophet." 
To  this  appointment  there  is  no  denial,  though  the  prophet  is 
allowed  to  interpose  his  valid  objections.  Then  comes  the  vivid 
touch,  "I  have  put  my  words  in  thy  mouth,"  and  the  prophet  feels 
the  touch  of  the  divine  hand  up)on  his  lips. 

Here  we  come  nearest  to  Isaiah,  but  the  similarity  is  more  in 
form  than  in  essence.  The  cleansing  from  sin  in  Isaiah's  case  was 
accompUshed  by  a  coal  from  the  altar,  apphed  to  the  lips  by  one 
of  the  fiery  attendants  of  Jahwe.  The  activity  was  purely  cere- 
monial. But  Jeremiah  is  conscious  of  no  sin  and  no  need  of  cer- 
emonial or  symboUcal  cleansing.  His  conception  of  religion  is  too 
much  an  ethical  one  to  be  satisfied  with  ceremony,  however  grand 
and  imposing.  No  sort  of  mediation  is  required  to  prepare  Jeremiah 
for  direct  personal  contact  with  his  God.  Inexorable  law  stands 
between  Amos  and  his  God;  ineffable  holiness  between  Isaiah  and 
his  God;  but  Jeremiah,  much  more  in  the  spirit  of  Hosea,  rends  all 
veils  and  sees  face  to  face  and  experiences  heart  to  heart. 

There  may  be  in  such  a  conception,  a  touch  of  mysticism,  but 
no  mechanics  of  vision  or  audirion.  Jeremiah,  least  of  all  the 
prophets,  can  be  accused  of  harking  back  to  the  earlier,  more  super- 
ficial forms  of  prophetic  experience.  Nor  do  the  two  visions  that 
accompany  the  call  lay  him  open  to  the  charge  of  imitation.  Both 
of  these  lessons  are  suggested  to  him  by  simple  phenomena  in  the 


40        THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL  APPROACH  TO  PROPHECY 

everyday  world.  Later  in  his  ministry  his  lessons  come  in  the  same 
way.  The  linen  girdle,  the  potter's  vessel,  the  yokes  of  wood  and 
iron  are  striking  instances.  To  explain  such  experiences  we  do  not 
need  vision  or  ecstasy,  but  keen  powers  of  observation,  a  deep 
ethical  insight,  and  a  broad,  well-balanced  conception  of  moral 
causality  in  the  affairs  of  the  universe.  We  must  conclude,  then, 
much  as  we  might  desire  not  to  do  so,  that  in  Jeremiah,  the  matter- 
of-fact,  the  rational  predominate  over  the  poetic  and  the  mystical. 
"He  was  a  nature  characterized  by  simplicity,  reality,  pathos, 
tenderness,  and  a  strange  piety,  but  subject  to  his  emotions,  which 
were  liable  to  rise  into  passions.  His  mind  was  set  on  a  minor  key 
and  his  temper  was  elegiac.    And  to  all  this  his  language  was  true.*" 

*  Davidson,  article  on  "Jeremiah"  in  HDB. 


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